Alas Poor Velasco
by Archontor
Summary: The Brotherhood abandoned him,the Legion had exploited her.Together they might just survive or better yet live in this strange world. Rated T for the general nastiness of the Fallout series, which has too many issues to name individually.
1. Chapter 1: As The Crow Flies

Alas poor Velasco

Another sun scorched day racked the Mojave Wasteland and yet despite the pervasive heat of the area life still sped by at a blistering pace, or at least it did for most people, at the moment sat against a pillar in the shade of a crumbling section of overpass 'Scribe' Yorick Velasco had set himself down on the arid dust strewn ground and began to drink from one of the three scratched old canteens on his utility belt.

His years in exile from the bunker had been hard though worthwhile, if nothing else he had always wanted to see what life was like for the wastelanders, though he would have preferred to simply ask them. If nothing else he could see the bright side of the situation. But for over two hundred years now humanity had been making the best of a bad situation.

He gulped heartily at the lukewarm drink as though it were his last, which given the nature of this barren dustbowl was a remarkable possibility.

He lazily cast his eyes across the desert landscape before him, spending forty two years of his life in military complexes and bunkers with his insular compatriots had given him a somewhat curious fascination regarding the world beyond. Like his mother before him he would trade old sensor modules and other high-tech bric-a-brac for old-world books and bizarre oddities from all across the west coast whenever they stopped to trade.

And then the war came. The NCR wanted an old solar array to provide power in their war effort from what he could gather and it seemed as though his old home for whatever it's joy and it's faults was cut off to him from that point on. For a while he wasn't alone, Paladin Garibaldi had been assigned to guard him whilst he evaluated the use of some old-world nutrient synthesis systems when the lockdown was enacted. They had left and we're headed to a nearby town called Goodsprings when a legion scouting group crossed their path, they were outnumbered almost ten to one. Never stood a chance, they fought well but Garibaldi's power armour was quite resistant to their inferior weapons whilst football gear proved nearly non-existent to a pre-war rail gun.

But one lucky scout managed to strike him in his un armoured neck as he lay bleeding on the red stained earth. The Paladin had fought against crazed ghouls, super mutants and veteran rangers, all to end at the hands of some ex-tribal seemed so…wrong. Yorick had emerged from the rock he had cowered behind to see his guardian slump to his knees and then slowly tip over face forwards into the dusty orange ground.

He scrabbled to his feet and finished off the offending legionnaire before he performed the old funeral rites upon his now deceased comrade. It was a simple thing with only a few ancient words borrowed from the old-world military before he removed the dog tags from under his armour and drew a specially designed disintegrator charge from a pocket in his bright red robe and placed it over Garibaldi's now still heart, which it confirmed was no longer beating. A loud whine pierced the air before he simply dissipated into ash, no body to be recovered, no technology to be stolen. Nothing.

His melancholy musings we're cut short by an ear-splitting scream, he looked off into the distance before bringing the Brotherhood standard-issue digital binoculars around his neck to his dull green eyes. The automatic vision enhancers relayed in excellent clarity a horrific scene.

A caravan was being attacked by a Super Mutant, and one of the largest he'd ever seen at thirteen foot tall according to the object recognition program in his binoculars, it became obvious to him that the scream he'd heard was a caravan guard as he was crushed in it's vice like hands, blood escaping between it's massive fingers.

All the while the other guard stood between the mutant and some poor woman pinned to the floor by the body of their pack brahmin he was firing an old machine gun, normally a sufficiently formidable weapon though woefully ineffective upon this creatures thick hide and heavy armour which leaked small amounts of shockingly red blood from a few shots on it's massively over muscled shoulder.

It dropped the now somewhat more narrow man to the ground and blood still seeping from the olive under suit beneath the plates of his green combat armour. It was the Brotherhood's opinion that they should leave the 'savage' wastelanders to solve their own problems. He never did agree to that opinion.

He ran across the hills and dips of the parched landscape as fast as he could a shooting pain from his bad knee reminded him why this was a bad idea, for what little it mattered as he scrabbled up the last rise and then skidded down the last hill just in time to see the monstrosity knock the remaining guard to the ground by the trapped woman his impressive machine gun clattering away from his hands. The guard threw up his hands and begged for his life before the abomination bought the primitive and blunt bumper sword down on the poor man. Velasco turned away just in time to avoid the execution though he still heard crack of his armour followed by the sickening squelch of crushed innards intermixed with the crunch of bones snapping.

The creature was running, almost bounding towards the woman at a frightening pace. Velasco drew the extensively modified plasma defender from his hip and fired nine shots at the abomination's massive chest four of which struck it in the shoulder and two glanced it's back. The superheated plasma seared it's flesh and armour, nearly fusing one to the other. For the first time in centuries the creatures nerves we're alight with pain. It dropped it's massive weapon which thumped the floor as it scrabbled at the sizzling wound, each time it's sausage-like fingers prodded the blackened crater a stabbing pain rain through it's body. It cocked it's head almost quizzically as a rush of overcharged hormones shot through it's blood stream and the warm fug overtook the pain, for a scant few seconds the cocktail of chemicals caused her to pause for a moment, she remembered faintly cowering beneath the earth in a cave of steel as a flaming mushroom consumed the sky. Just as soon as the memory came it passed and the creature was flooded with rage and confusion it's memory once again lost in a corner of it's mutagen addled mind.

It had stopped a foot short of trampling the poor woman before it turned and roared at him revealing the oversized and far too numerous yellow teeth that bulged from it's gums. It charged at him, manically flailing it's tree trunk arms. Though scribes we're as close to civilians as was possible in the Brotherhood they we're still taught the basics of self defence. He rolled as nimbly as his old bones allowed dodging a gigantic fist that left a dent in the hard ground the size of a dinner plate. "Smaaaash!" it bellowed in it's inhumanly deep voice.

It rose both fists into the air aiming to bring both down in him it's chest puffed out like a maddened silverback with it's too long arms reaching to the sky. He quickly levelled the plasma pistol and fired the remaining seven plasma bolts at the beast. It's heavy metal chest piece melted to slag searing away skin and muscle but not penetrating it's thick torso. It ounce more bellowed in pain, it's already restrained lips pulled back further in fear. She was rushed by more chemicals that swam through her post-human brain. She was flooded by the memory of three voices speaking in turn at her though she didn't recall how she got there.

The voices grew louder and louder to an almost deafening volume until they suddenly stopped. It's grossly altered pituitary replaced the memory of the past with the rage of the present. Yorick had begun to replace the empty energy cell when a massive hand grabbed at him.

In the confusion his weapon and it's ammo we're dropped to the floor by now more than six foot bellow him. Swiftly clasping him between it's enormous hands it began to squeeze, though more slowly this time, the conflicting chemicals in it's brain causing it to become distracted somehow.

April saw the creature stagger into view it seemed almost confused as though it didn't know why it was trying to crush her aged saviour though it was quite clear that it meant to kill him.

From beneath the bulk of the brahmin she tried to wriggle just enough to get to her dead guard's light machine gun trying to avoid looking at the deep line of gore that nearly bisected him. She snaked her long delicate fingers around the riffle-butt before dragging it's considerable bulk towards her.

Yorick could feel his life draining away as he struggled to breathe and the corners of his vision grew dark and blurred. He realised that he was going to die. He realised also that he would have died pointlessly far from any one he held dear, his carcass most likely to be this monstrosity's next meal or simply an attraction for the local wildlife to peck clean. If he was lucky someone would discover his dog tags, which would most likely be all that was left after his armour and supplies we're taken from his corpse and someone would know that a Brotherhood scribe named Yorick Velasco died at this spot though no one who found him was likely have known him well instead they'd most likely gather dust on a shelf of knick-knacks and oddities in a bighorner's shack.

April saw the man's arms start to weaken in their struggle against the grip of the giant. She hurried to heft the weapon onto the impromptu mount of the brahmin's now unmoving flank.

A series of short sharp thunder cracks pierced the air as April emptied the remainder of the clip into the monster's back and Yorick felt the grip of the creature tighten in pain for a moment before releasing him completely he dropped to the floor, bracing himself with his hands. He ran from under the rapidly growing shadow of the colossus with just enough time to scoop up his prized weapon and it's power cell on his way out.

It slumped forwards the last rush of chemicals bought what was left of her to the forefront she was trapped in a big heavy body, she was flooded by memories of he long life all the horrors she had performed and yet this one part had retreated vaguely realising the terror it's malformed body had reeked until now. An overriding sense of loss and regret filled her mind, more clear in these last few minutes than it had been for many more decades.

In her unnatural, almost guttural gurgle she rasped one last word as the all to humanly red blood seeped from her mouth. "Thanks." and then after nearly two hundred years of hatred and berserker fury she could finally rest. She died without the Master's song to guide her as she had been promised, instead she died with her own song, a lullaby her mother had sung to her in infancy. She recognised this voice and as her heart grew still she knew she would go in peace.

Fortunately for Yorick his ribs we're apparently quite sturdy and seemed un broken though his sides felt somewhat tender as he prodded them gingerly.

Replacing the plasma defender in it's holster he wandered over to the brahmin and the struggling girl. Her smooth pale face was unmarked by scarring or grime, odd for someone in the caravanning industry, although her scant garments hardly seemed practical for that profession anyway.

Then he noticed it. The slave collar most likely Legion born, though their women we're often far more brutalised than she seemed to be and her clothes also didn't seem to be the usual patchwork of rags. He squatted and strained to lift the creature off of her enough that she could wiggle free. She pulled herself out from under the mutant cow but didn't attempt to stand. Yorick had heard reports of legion slaves having their legs damaged repeatedly to prevent their escape. It was moments like this when the term 'savages' was less of an insult and more of a fact so far as he was concerned.

His keen sense of survival told him to simply say his goodbyes and wander away to let her fend for herself as he often did but his feeling of morality told him that since she would probably wind up scorpion chow in a week to simply remain passive was in his mind tantamount to murder, he'd killed before but only in the defence of himself or others and that let him sleep safe at night but to let a little girl die alone was not something he needed on his conscience

Panting as he stood up and stretched with his hands on his lower back he looked at her and let a warm smile cross his mouth as he spoke. "So… who are you?" he said between heavy breaths. "A-April…s-sir." she said as she looked up with widened, terrified eyes. "Hello April, I'm Yorick." He said as he extended a gloved hand to pull her up. She looked at him in confusion before she realised the intention. "Th-Thank you sir." She replied as she got up with a grunt. She stood with a slight stoop and grimaced slightly as she shifted her weight. "You okay?" he said as he reached out to steady her, though she flinched reflexively. "Fine." she lied with a wince on her face.

"Riiiight." Yorick stated voicing his disbelief. "Well the first thing we need to do is get that collar off." She blinked in disbelief her mouth hung open for a moment before she whispered "You can do that s-sir." her eyes darting about as though she were expecting the Frumentarii to jump out of the shadows, which admittedly was always technically possible, after all a former Brotherhood scribe would make an excellent prize if they ever found him. "We'll need to get somewhere quiet but yes I can get it off." he said reassuringly. She looked down and away for a minute in a shocked silence, she turned her head away as a few tears slipped down her checks. She had given up on being free the day she saw her only friend's corpse left at the side of the path they we're being marched along, just like six before her on that arduous journey to place whose name she'd never bothered to learn. "Tha-thank you sir." April said as her voice croaked with emotion.

"You don't mind if I take some of their supplies?" He asked as he crouched over the deceased brahmin. She nodded slightly still struggling to process an abandoned dream coming to a brilliant reality and he started plucking the tasteless rations from the large saddle bags before he fit them snugly into the large pockets on his utility belt he had designated for rations and the like. He removed what other valuables he could discern from the jumble, five stim-packs, a dose of rad-way, some excess ammo he hoped to sell on, five hundred caps and lastly a single grenade which he slipped into his thigh pocket, just in case. Realising that there was no way he could roll the brahmin over and that the supplies would probably have been crushed he turned to April and said "We need to go now, okay." in as soft a tone as his gravelly voice allowed for. She eagerly nodded her head. "Yes…P-Please sir." She said she attempted to distance herself from the memory of her captors' gruesome deaths.

She tried to follow after him though somewhat slower with a bad hobble and a slight wince. He noticed her short sharp gasps of pain after eight paces. He turned back around and reached out a hand. "I'm s-sorry I…I don't have anything to p-pay you." she said looking up with her big shimmering brown eyes. "No, no it's just that you like your struggling to walk, I wanted to help keep you steady." Once again she stood in a shocked silence, charity was rare in the wasteland and rarer still in the Legion, the overseers most certainly didn't waste resources on the 'filth' and every other slave would sell your hide for the promise of a few more crumbs in their gruel. "It's…I… thank you. Thank y-you sir "

Though April seemed to be roughly six foot four to Yorick's five foot ten due to the stoop in her step he was forced to hunch slightly to let her rest against his shoulders she leaned against him allowing him to support some of her weight. He was forced to resist the urge to giggle childishly as her long chestnut hair tickled against his jaw and ears.

They retraced Yorick's steps, though much more slowly due to Aprils weak legs and the lack of adrenaline in their systems, he would amble ahead of her up a hillside and every time he heard a disappointed whimper before he turned around to help pull her up. Eventually they ambled to the overpass Yorick had been sitting under previously, panting and sweating in the midday sun they moved into the shade of the over pass and he patted at the ancient park bench in the shade of the decrepit fragment of a long passed civilization.

As she sat down he took a few delicate looking, dentist-like lock picking tools from a pocket on his jumpsuit. He removed his elbow high fingerless leather gloves and tucked them into his belt. "Okay just hold still and this'll be over soon." he said as he leaned forward. She stuck her chin up and stared at the 'ceiling' as she heard began to hear metal clicking and beeping. His nimble fingers handled the tools expertly, his mind quickly focussed on the triaxial tumblers with a two part magneto lock, one by one each security precaution was bypassed without setting off the anti-tampering systems he'd tampered with. With a confirmatory beep the clamps released. He delicately slipped the terrible technology off of her neck revealing her long delicate and noticeably paler, almost porcelain skin that hadn't felt the sun since childhood.

He stepped back to give her a little bit of room as she tapped her dainty fingers to her newly bare neck. She looked him straight in his dull green eyes her own wide as saucepans with a few tears of joy trickling down her soft cheeks. She went to speak but words escaped her she swiftly closed her mouth with a wide smile before she leapt at Yorick her eyes wide as she caught him in a surprise embrace, unprepared for the gesture he toppled over backwards onto the hard rock of the Mojave with her pressed on top of him their arms wrapped around each other. "Buy me a drink first." He said with a chuckle as he gently shifted her off his chest and set her to his side. "Um…wh-what s-sir." she replied with her head cocked in confusion. Yorick remembered that mating rituals in the legion we're less a matter of an after-hours drink and a quick tryst in a storage closet as he was accustomed to and more a matter of restraints, pain and whipping, not the fun kind either.

He stood first and helped to pull her off the ground and steadied her as she tried to find her balance like a baby deer. "S-so where'd you l-learn to do that, sir." she said as she bent over and dusted her self down and he nervously averted his gaze. He was caught off guard by the question and weighed his options on whether to lie to her or not, he'd already saved her life and given her freedom she was unlikely to run off and sell him out even if she could. "The Brotherhood of Steel." he replied. "I th-thought th-they all wo-wore that scary armour." she remarked curiously. "Well I'm what you call a scribe, we maintain and study the last and most beautiful vestiges of the old world as keepers of knowledge that tore the world apart." He stated with prideful smile as he remembered his colleagues faces the day he rediscovered the hyper-capacitor he'd installed in his pistol. "So th-that's why you don't d-dress like them."

He nodded and glumly reflected how little he resembled a scribe either, as it happens long heavy robes are not ideal desert survival gear, and as such he burnt it to cinders at his first opportunity replaced it with an armoured rob-co jumpsuit he'd and bedecked with a number of pouches , multi pocketed arm straps, a bandolier and utility belt to carry all he needed close at hand. Indeed his only real reminder of his ties was the field equipment bracer, a compact radio, Geiger counter and watch combination he'd built out of recovered pip-boy components and even then he often hid it beneath his glove remain inconspicuous.

He mused at how much he had changed and wondered if his fellows would even recognise him as anything other than a 'savage' before he remembered that he still had to be moving if he expected to make it to Novac before nightfall, especially with his new companion. "We've got to get moving, I need to be in town before sunset." "Ca-can I come with you." She said timidly as she nervously twiddled her fingers and thumbs. "Of course, that's why I said we." he replied warmly as he stuck his hand out. Truthfully he had no intention of leaving, it was unlikely she knew how to survive on her own.

With that they set off on their way to Novac her arm once again hanging over his shoulder for stability.

Yorick hoped to sell or trade what he could to local merchants before moving on to the Crimson Caravan's headquarters near the strip to sell what ever else he had no need for, and now hopefully consult the Followers of the Apocalypse for a way to repair the damage to April's legs or at the very least find her somewhere more permanent than right next to him. He didn't particularly know just why he was helping her, he preferred to think it was more than just attraction and loneliness, but he knew at the back of his mind that was a part of it. He frowned at the thought, was that all he'd been reduced to, a lonely hermit who'll risk his life for the company of a slave and some survival gear.

That thought only deepened his frown, he always held himself as 'above' the belief that wastelanders were inferior and yet here he was disapproving of a nice young girl who had lived such a hard life.

"So any family?" He asked as they trundled along the arrow straight highway that ounce bustled with the iron chariots of the old-world, now reduced to burnt out rust ridden husks littering the streets for the most part. She looked remorseful for a few seconds before she looked straight forwards and replied sombrely. "S-Six children." she said with her voice almost a whisper as she thought back to each of the times she'd seen their tiny faces for the first time, followed all too swiftly by them being snatched up by her legion overseers, even though they weren't the names the legion would give them she named each of them with the ancestral names of what was once her tribe, Wilkin, Tamnra, Syltie, Char, Frank and Brinn in that order, the sons we're most likely well on their way to becoming fully fledged legionnaires whilst the daughters we're most likely anonymous slaves to some Legion officer or another.

"Oh I…I'm so sorry." he said with genuine shame over asking the question, though in his mind he mentally recoiled, on the collar he'd removed he noticed two 'X's and an I painted onto it, there we're times he really did regret being so quick with numbers.


	2. Chapter 2:The Guardian Devil

"Do y-you have any family, sir?" She asked trying to forget bittersweet memories. "Yeah." he said as he was lost in thought. "My father was a scribe, died of a heart attack aged seventy-three." He said doing his best to recount the information as calmly as he could, he was this young woman's only source of security he couldn't afford to let her see him get weepy over such an old fact. "My mother." he continued, pressing on. "Is an Elder back east, she's kind of like a General I suppose." She looked confused before she spoke. "So, wo-women can be s-soldiers in the Brotherhood." she asked almost dumbfounded. "Yes, Elder is actually our highest rank." He said sounding more and more like his old teacher when he went over the organization of the Brotherhood, although he would often allow his mind to wander at that point. "Can I vi-visit them." she said starry eyed and hopeful. "The Brotherhood tends to keep to it's own." He replied solemnly. He could see her wide eyed grin crumple into a gentle pout as she asked, "D-does that mean you're go-going home wi-without me." she mumbled. "No, can't go home, not anymore." "Oh." she said softly. The journey was far quieter for a long stretch of the journey to Novac.

Somewhere along the trail Yorick drew a long slim pre-war ration bar from one of his belt pockets. "Come on gotta keep your strength up." He said as he passed it to her free hand. As he picked the other bar from the open compartment he said. "Sorry if it's not that…" He had turned to April just in time to see her force the entire bar into her mouth, her cheeks bulging like a cartoon squirrel "tasty." he mumbled in confusion. "Thank y-you sir." she said her voice muffled by the food in her mouth.

After waiting for April to finish with a few loud gulps Yorick asked another question, hoping this time to avoid setting such a depressing ambience as last time. "April." He stated to get her attention. "Yes sir?" she replied curiously. "Why do you always call me sir?" She thought for a moment before speaking. "Aren't my superiors me-meant to be tr-treated with resp-respect si…" she replied catching herself from saying that old honorific. "What makes you think I'm your superior?" he asked in bemusement. "We-well you're a ma-man." she replied gently as though she were explaining a painfully obvious point to a child. "That doesn't really put me above you April." he cooed reassuringly. "But my o-overseer alwa-ways said men we-were better than wom-me-men because w-we can't survive on our o-own." she replied as though her entire belief system was crumbling. "Your overseer was wrong." he stated bluntly. "O-okay." she whispered as she thought to herself .

After about an hour and a half with the sun fading quickly they were at least an hours walk from Novac according to his map pod, it would certainly be a close call.

"Yor-Yorick." she murmured. "Yes." he replied hoarsely with a slight huff, his old bones were clearly beginning to tire from having to support her, normally he would have taken a break a while ago but he calculated correctly that with April slowing him down he wouldn't reach Novac in time. "Why di-didd you help m-me?" she asked, her voice much less ragged though also showing signs of strain. "Well to tell the truth I was just hoping for a reward, supplies, medicine, caps that kind of thing." He replied though omitting the loneliness and attraction angle. "S-so what hap-hap-happens when we reach t-town." she said. "I trade some of my pickings for caps, we spend the night and then head out to New Vegas and see what we can do about your legs." "A-and then wh-what?" "Whatever you want." he said warmly. "Thank you Yorick." she said as she pulled herself closer to him.

He was about to reply when he heard a crunch somewhere in the distance. "Did you hear that?" he said nervously as his hand darted to the mahogany handle of his custom plasma defender and flicked the safety off.

From ahead of them a half a dozen people ran into view, each of them armed. "Quick take cover." he said as he helped April to steady herself. He saw her hide in a rocky crag on the side of a cliff face and turned just in time to see the group come close enough to get a good look at them. Yorick knew the point man, a pretentious young 'raider' Named Eight Eyed Jake, so called because of the numerous goggles he had strapped over his top hat, hanging on his pencil thin neck and his thick nuka-bottle glasses. Normally Yorick would just give him what he wanted, there was no reason to risk his life for a few caps but he couldn't afford it this time if he was to keep two people supplied…never mind if they decided to get a hold of April.

"Well if it isn't Yorick, I was hoping for an easy job." he said as he tapped one of his subordinates to force a raucous laugh from his entourage. "Sorry not this time, find someone else to pay for your chems." he said as he lifted the weapon from it's holster the thin rectangular hyper-conductive emitter at it's muzzle glowed an ominous green that lit up the twilight. "Look tell ya what Yori" he said with an undeserved tone of authority and familiarity. "hand over your whore and I'll let you keep your stuff." He said as he pulled the man to his left wearing an aviator's helmet forwards by his leather chest straps. From behind a high terrified whine escaped April's plump lips.

As the massively muscular young man went to walk past Yorick he quickly drew his long vicious looking combat knife from his boot and pressed up near the highwayman's neck with his pistol still fixed squarely on Eight Eyes' chest. "You won't touch her." he stated calmly as his finger prepared to squeeze the trigger. Normally he would just try to run for it or scare them off but with April slowing him down there was no way to escape in time and Eight Eyes was far to egotistical to be scared away. Poor April had been through so much he knew then and there that he would never again sleep well if they were to abduct her, the path was set. "Hey I tried bein' reasonable." Jake said with a shrug of his armoured shoulders. "We can always loot the…remains." he said with a wan smile.

Eight eyes' men hadn't drawn their weapons until now, sloppy mistake. They were also stood shoulder to shoulder along the paved road in essence forming a single massive target, fortunate considering Yorick's aim. He let a volley of plasma loose striking one thug in the chest, she went spinning to the ground, her construction helmet toppling off with a seared and smoking hole just below her sternum. At the same time he dug his knife into the taught and grubby flesh of Mako's muscular chest. Mako bellowed in pain and dropped his magnum as the serrated edge bit into him and Yorick forced him into a position that put him in-between himself and the remaining four robbers. "You can still walk away Jake, I'll even give you your lap dog back." He said as he twisted the blade, a cruel technique he normally wouldn't whish upon anyone but if Mako's wailing could demoralise his comrades into surrender then he could prevent further bloodshed…metaphorically anyway.

"Don't shoot!" Jake shouted as his lackeys looked down the sights on their ramshackle 'weapons'.

Mako smiled. It was a smug knowing smile, the kind a predator makes when prey is trapped he'd seen it once before in Scribe Velasco senior in happier times as an expertly planned chess move came into place.

Yorick got a sickening lump in the pits of his stomach. Moments later he heard a sickening squeal coming from April's direction, a bald porcine man with a rough bowler hat yanked her forcefully by the arm and she struggled to free herself from his grip squirming and writhing as he latched on with both hands. He momentarily swung his pistol to the kidnapper and fired, the first shot went low and scorched away his hamstrings. He fell over screeching as the gravelly ground mixed with his bubbling flesh fusing to his blackened and exposed calf muscles. The man would almost certainly never walk again, best to put him out of his misery. Yorick fired two more shots, the first blew a hole in his upper torso killing him instantly the second melted him down to a pile of green goop as could sometimes happen with lucky shots, hopefully it would be suitably terrifying for these yokels.

Two of Eight Eyes' goons simply ran stumbling into the almost-night, evidently were not hardened mercenaries. "You could've kept walking Jake!" Yorick hollered over his hostage's screaming. "Don't worry Jake I've got ya ba-" he said as a bolt of green energy struck the side of his head. A huge swathe of his face, including the eye and much of his red tricorne was vaporised down to his blackened skull, he slumped forwards into the cold hard ground, his limbs splayed at uncomfortable angles and twitched spasmodically in his death throes.

Yorick wrenched his knife from Mako's chest, a deep bloody wound left in it's place trailing thick red blood over his left side as he fell to the floor in fresh waves of agony, his left arm hanging limply at his side, no doubt crippled from a severed tendon.

With his back to the sobbing marauder Yorick walked up to Eight Eyed Jake, dropped to his knees trembling, his precious peashooter thrown before him in the older man's long shadow that loomed ahead of him and consumed Eight Eyed Jake beneath it. Without his half witted followers Yorick finally saw him for what he really was an insecure little boy playing at a man's game. Pitiful. "I'm sorry I-I promise it won't happen again, Yori." "Oh I know Jake." He said coldly. Jake closed his two actual eyes and prepared for oblivion. Yorick swung his right leg with all his might, the armoured boot bruised Eight eyed Jake's ribs and severely winded him. As he laid sobbing and coughing on the floor he heard Yorick's voice as cold as steel and seething with rage. "Remember, I let you live." he said as he plucked the 9mm pistol from ground in front of him.

He turned to retrieve April she had retreated into the rocky niche and had balled up into the foetal position on the floor whimpering softly into herself. He knelt down shushing kindly and gently bough his hand, trembling from the adrenaline rush to the point of her chin and softly turned her head to his, her lips we're quivering, on the edge of bringing her to tears. "Come on now April it's over now, we can go." "Y-you killed him." she said as she pointed to the puddle that had ounce bean Squeak McLeod. "I…" He paused as he struggled to think of an excuse, but there was really never a way to kill a downed man and still feel good about it and he knew it. "I know if there was another way I would've taken it but I couldn't let him hurt you. He said with a sombre sincerity. "I-I understa- sta-stand." she said as she gripped an extended hand and he pulled her up from the ground. She wobbled on her weakened legs as he bought her towards him to rest on his shoulders as they had previously. He quickened their pace slightly, both to put more distance between that and the incident and to get to Novac, the big model dinosaur, a representation of two worlds that had long since faded into obscurity that marked it's main entrance began coming into sight.

For a long time April was quiet, lost in her thoughts. Yorick just killed them, and so coldly too he hadn't worried or raised his voice, he barely even sounded angry. Just like Centurion Acacius she remembered trembling when ever she saw his cold fury, hoping she wouldn't't be noticed by his reptilian gaze, she always was. that man he just…melted she could feel him…squelch under her boots as they walked away. That poor man stabbed through the chest, he groaned as his throat was too raw to scream and half heartedly reached his hand out and all Yorick did was cast a withering look before slowly moving away.

Eventually they got far enough away that they couldn't't hear his mumbling and came into sight of Novac.

By the time they'd reached it's limits night had settled in, the place seemed somewhat darker, the overlooking lights of the Repcon facility were gone, probably a story in that if he had the time in the morning.

As they passed the gates they noticed a large splatter of rock on the stone, it was unlikely Eight Eyed Jake would be able to so much as scratch his ass the wrong way with Boone or Vargas watching much less make it past Ranger Andy but all the same that much blood came from someone's death and it was clear.

"Y-Yorick, is that what these peop-p-ple w-worship?" she said incredulously as she pointed to it's weathered green body. "No, some people still believe in a bearded man who died to save us or something, I'm not quite sure." he replied. "The m-m-monster's better." she said amiably.

The town was deathly quiet at night, as it often was, at this hour most people would retire to their rooms and engage in their hobbies, their jobs or the partners, though along many of his visits they seemed wary of the lights coming from the abandoned facility. Normally he'd volunteer to check out the facility's generator for some kind of malfunction but after his binoculars detected massive thermal signatures and the anti-photon radiation anomalies associated with stealth boys he decided against it.

They toddled over to the large motel complex and fumbled in the dark for the key he kept in his breast pocket, the room having been gifted to him for repairing the computers and signage for the complex, "S-so you li-live here?" "Kind of, I travel a lot but this is my…base I guess." he replied as he fumbled with the bi-centennial tumblers. There was a rewarding click as the door slid open on it's old, though well maintained hinges.

He flicked on the lights and closed the door. Revealing a single dust covered room with a single bed sat in the middle. "Theeere we are." he said as he lowered April into an old wing backed chair next to the large window. As he pulled the curtains shut he began to speak matter-of-factly, "We'll need to head out early, best to get some rest." he stretched what was left of his sinewy musculature until he felt the reassuring click of vertebrae shifting into place. "Maxson knows I need it!" he said with a satisfied grunt.

And then April noticed there was but one bed, fit to hold two people, evidently this was the reward Yorick had intended to exact for himself. She would hope he was gentle and try to settle before morning as she had always done.

She sighed to herself and removed her tattered, almost patchwork purple blazer along with the matching waistcoat revealing her stretch marked stomach and draped it over one of the worn wooden bed posts, at least this time there was a bed.

He released the clasp on his bandolier and set it on the dresser in time to see April about to unhook her lacy black bra. Turning sharply back around he closed his eyes and began speaking nervously. "Umm…April what are you doing?" he asked sheepishly. "O-oh I-I uh…" she mumbled with a blush on her ivory cheeks. He already said he wasn't looking for a reward, hard to believe that he really meant it, in Aprils experience most men in her life wanted one thing and it was generally non-negotiable.

"Are you…covered." he asked as he slowly turned to face her. "Y-yes." she said as she dropped her hands to her sides, her fingers fidgeting nervously. "What exactly was that all about April?" he asked unaccustomed to confusion. "I-I thought…" she trailed off as she pointed to the bed nervously. "Oh…" Yorick said with a startled yet knowing tone. "No, no I would never do that." he said trying to verbally prance around he elephant in the room, whatever an elephant was. "you're having the bed." "Th-thanks." she said with an earnest smile.

They proceeded to disrobe without incident their clothes neatly stored for the next day, though Yorick insisted on keeping his pistol on him with a holster kept around his trouser less waist.

Yorick went to turn off the dim orange lights when he herd a nervous squeak. "Are, are you afraid of the dark April." he asked calmly. She nodded quickly, her head being the only part of her above the old covers. "C-could you l-leave the lights on, please." "Of course I can." he said as he lowered the light to the point where it was a dim glow similar to twilight.

Yorick had swiftly slipped into sleep sprawled on the sand strewn red carpet. April however had awoken, bought to the waking world by a dream that had plagued her since childhood, the fall of the Wandering Shadow tribe, so named for their habits of evasion and wanderlust, then they came across the Legion and the wandered no more. Father, he took down twenty three legionnaires before he was caught, they dragged Brother and Sister and April to see him hung along with Mother, Uncle and Aunt and so many others. She woke up just as she saw them drop, just as she always did.

She looked around trying to remember how she ended up in an unfamiliar place, her gaze fell on Yorick, asleep at the foot of the bed like an old guard dog, almost comically stripped to his boxers yet still armed with that little lightning gun. Then she saw him stir, his left arm slipped out from under his balding head. On his wrist picked out on his caramelish skin there sat a single jagged scar that ran from one side of his arm to the other.

She couldn't't help but wonder what the story was behind that old scar, though suddenly her mysterious, indomitable protector seemed much more like the fallible old man he really was, as subject to fear and misery as she was. Seeing him in that knew light was almost a source of inspiration for her. The entirety of April's life she had been told she was weak, that she was incapable of life beyond the Legion yet to see someone else hit the lowest point in life and then continue on was one of the few times in her life she had truly felt hope, one of the others being when she touched her neck for the first time in seventeen years. It seemed clear to her, at least at a more intuitive level that Yorick wasn't her guardian so much as her guide and she could only hope to follow.

Hope, it was a word she was getting used to.

After that thought had rolled around in her head for a while she fell into a novel slumber, her nightmare had for now been quietened and a newfound sense of comfort permeated her subconscious.

Yorick's sleep was quite still, he no longer had dreams he simply remembered closing his eyes and groggily opening them as sunlight crept in, probably better that way the wasteland was filled with enough things he really didn't want to see when he was awake much less when he was asleep.


	3. Chapter 3: A Walking Shadow

Just as the sun inexorably set dawn inexorably crested over the curve of the globe and sent night speeding to some other part of the world, just as it had when the Earth formed in the dense dust around the sun and when man in his hubris had bought the sun to earth and scorched the land, it had happened countless times before and it would happen countless times more, all that changed was the objects that cast the shadows.

The amber beams crept in through the gap between the curtain and the windowsill, April awoke to find the room much more ordered than before, the dust had been swept away, the discarded scrap neatly placed in spare dresser space and a suitcase that had been there was gone, Yorick's bandolier and utility belt remained on the top of it along with a box of fancy lad snack cakes with "APRIL" clearly written on it though he himself was gone.

In a panic she sprung to her feet and nearly toppled over, leaning against the bed she gradually made her way to the exit when she spied a note stuck to the door with strange squiggles of black running across it, she remembered how to read just about from Mother, fortunately Yorick had taken the time to write it in block capitals for simplicity's sake the letter read "GONE TO TRADE. BACK SOON. YORICK."

Outside Yorick had walked into the Dino-Bite Gift Shop to trade as he had for the past four years to earn a meagre living, today was no different, Cliff Briscoe was an honest trader, a bit obsessed with those little dinosaurs but in a universe populated by giant scorpions, psychopathic immortal mutants and glowing zombies a touch of eccentricity was quite expected. "Heh-Hey, Yorick!" he said with an enthusiastic welcome. "So what can I do for ya today?" he continued, unflagging in his exuberance. "Same old same old got some things to trade if you've got the caps." He said as he hefted the suitcase onto the table the result of a few months of scavenging. Various boxes of physical ammo, a couple of sensor modules, a conductor, a few laser pistols, a pulse grenade and various computer components. "I'll give you six hundred caps." Cliff said passively. "Seven hundred ." Yorick replied, displaying his unfathomable knowledge of bartery. "six hundred and fifty, final offer." Cliff said with a warm, practiced smile. "Yeah sure." he said as they confirmed the deal with a handshake.

As Cliff was placing his new items on shelves around his store and his storage room he was interrupted by a question. "Why is there a bloodstained rock outside town?" "A guy from a vault rolled into town, helped find out who abducted Boone's wife turned out it was Jeannie May Crawford…nice guy actually helped with the Repcon problem as well." Cliff explained with alarming neutrality. "Never bought a dinosaur though." He muttered bitterly. "How's Craig holding up?" "Left with the guy, said they were looking for a man in a daisy suit."

'These people wear clothes out of plants now?' shock briefly played on Yorick's face but voicing such a question would only cast suspicion on him, the last thing he needs if Vargas was still around, he might not be first recon anymore but he was still NCR to the bones.

Returning to his home he was stopped short by Ranger Andy, an affable man if ever there was one. "Couldn't't help but notice you staggering in with a 'lady of the evening' didn't't figure you as the type." He said in the slow amiable manner of someone who knew they had nowhere to go and nothing to do. "She's not a whore and we weren't't staggering I was helping her walk." "So she's a crippled slut? Still good for you, bout time you got a girlfriend." "She's not a girlfriend either." "Boyfriend? I remember seeing this one 'girl' in Gomorrah, boy was I surprised." Andy said as he wistfully remembered his first trip to that city of lights and it's peculiar sights. "We're not a couple, we're…we're…I don't quite know actually." Yorick said his voice filled with naked confusion. "Well it's just good you have some company." Andy replied supportively. "By the way next time you call someone a slutty cripple" Yorick said with a hint of ire in his voice. "remember I can hear what you do with that quack doctor." He said as he brushed past the dumbfounded ex-ranger before he could muster a response.

As he stepped back inside, his boots one again covered in the dust of the Mojave and his jaw dropped as he saw the strange scene in the room, a trail of crumbs and some form of sticky red cream led to and onto April, sat cross legged on the bed greedily shovelling snack cakes into her mouth. She waved a sticky hand at him and flashed a closed lipped smile as he looked at her in bemusement.

"We'll need to be heading out soon, best prepare." He said as he plucked a small device from his belt, a sonic sanitizer another little artefact of his old life that allowed him to clean himself and his attire without using up precious water. "Her this'll clean you." he said as he demonstrated by causing a glob of jelly on his finger tips to slough away from his skin. "Th-thank you." she said as she took the strange device from him and marvelled as it caused the grime on her clothes and the mess of her meal to come loose from her.

"Oh that reminds me I forgot to give you something…" Yorick said as he drew Eight eyed Jake's pistol from one of his many deep pockets. April yelped and closed her eyes fearing the worst. "If we're going to travel you should carry some protection." He said as he clicked the safety on and handed the weapon to her hilt first. "Th-thank you." she replied honestly. Less than a week ago April's first reaction if she'd been handed such a weapon would be to turn it upon herself…but now, now there was some reason to stay, her noble little protector and this big beautiful world she was free to experience them both. Free, another word she was getting used to.

Yorick stood on the old wing backed chair in the corner of the room and lifted up a ceiling pannel before taking a large suitcase out, hefting the weighty container over his head. He hopped down and deposited the suitcase on the chair. He pulled his key ring out of the jumpsuit and unlocked it with a pleasing click. He pulled out a large sack, filled with more caps, stim-packs, and rations though strangely missing straps, he picked up it's significant weight and clipped it into the back of his bandolier and strapped it in before placing the entire harness on as well as his utility belt.

"We'd best get moving." he stated as he saw the last visible flecks of dirt come loose from her. "He-help me up p-please." she said as she stuck both hands in the air. "I gotcha." Yorick said as he took her delicate hands and pulled her up from the bed.

Back at the scene of the super mutant's death a singular man was the first on the scene, a frightful spectre his muscular visage loomed over the felled beast. He knelt down by the creature's corpse, a massive greyish blue carcass that sank slightly into the ground. He walked on his long athletic legs to examine the carcass and those that surrounded it, he studied the bodies each in turn with an equally passive gaze, the nearly bisected man elicited little more than a curious tilt of the head as he studiously looked over it careful not to let any of the gore on his black pinstriped suit.

The 'mercenaries' were brave legionnaires told to pretend they were slavers to lure someone out…someone who's very name is taboo, instead they we're killed by some random mutation. He was prepared to set off and return to the Fort when his cyberneticaly enhanced eyes picked up something of interest. First of all the concubine that had been sent with them was gone, considering the way their legs we're damaged from childhood she shouldn't have made it more than a mile on her own, a distance he could easily see to and found no one matching her description, nor did his collar tracker detect her. Second there was a set of human sized foot prints leading away from the scene. His cold and calculating brain assisted by a logic co processor already came up with a series of exacting simulations.

The mutation was the burned man's accomplice or simply a hireling and attacked the slaver party either as a distraction or as backup for the burned man it was killed, obviously though it may have killed the guards before succumbing to it's wounds or the burned man finished them off, either way the trail on a slaver hunter was hot and dragging any of them back to face their punishment would be a massive boon for everyone, well everyone but them.

Whilst the Legion couldn't care less if a few slaves we're freed during transit, even a fertile concubine the knowledge of a single emancipator defying Caesar and surviving was beginning to spread to towns it was aiming to annex and slaves that had heard it from new…additions, this combined with Caesar's recent and mysterious and sudden assassination right before the second battle for the Hoover Dam led many to hope that he'd won. The only way to ensure that the Legion wasn't crippled by lost morale and frequent slave uprisings was to drag the Malpais Legate back home in chains and leave him broken and bleeding at the top of the fort.

This was his big chance to jump from the already prestigious ranks of the Frumentarii to Legate in the new power vacuum. The first task was obvious, follow the footsteps. He thought as he walked over the scene of death and destruction and felt the crunch of loose pebbles under his leather shoes. He clambered over the rocky ledges his inhuman eyes able to pick out and recognise the imprints of two pairs of feet.

He made his way up the ridge following the trail with trivial ease, the only sign of exertion being a slightly wonky tie. He reached the end of the footprints as they led onto a patch of cement underneath an old disused road. There was an old bench with little traces of dust leading up to it. There was a collar on the table. Someone had definitely taken the concubine with them and they had the knowledge to disable their collars. If word got out that the slave could be truly free a major uprising was quite possible. The Legion might be able to put them down with significant loss of both citizens and thralls. Unless they got organised, in which case the entire legion would be ripe for conquest by the NCR.

A trail of footprints seemed evident now leading from this table off into the direction of Novac, a dangerous place for a lone Frumentarii if intelligence is to be believed, former first recon watchmen an NCR ranger guarding the town and a few cases of mysterious disappearances in the area, never mind the discovery and assassination of a freelance slave dealer. His best bet would be to wander into town, tell them he's a tourist from the bone yard and hope they leave him alone long enough to pick up the trail.

He removed the silenced twelve millimetre pistol from the concealed holster his jacket and quickly checked that the weapon was in working order before quickly yet precisely placing it back in his pocket.

From a rocky outcropping high above

The journey was probably a half a day's walk, he'd been walking for two already, a normal human would most likely be at death's door. He was not a normal human, a combination of his nociception regulator and Legionary training would most likely allow him to remain alert and active for another day and a half.

As he left a man in an old-world police sniper's uniform, 'To protect and serve' was still stitched onto his tattered sleeve in faded letters. After two hundred and twenty years with the Las Vegas Police Department he was probably pretty close to retirement. A shame his retirement money was ash or toilet paper. Nonetheless he'd taken an oath and he was sworn to protect the inhabitants of the Mojave and he would do so to his dying breath. He'd learnt a hundred years ago that people we' rent fond of Ghouls and he'd generally just put his helmet and face mask on to visit towns and tell them he'd been burnt.

A few years ago when he tried the tactic whilst taking an escaped slave to a place where he could find a home a local nut job had shrieked and called him 'the burnt man' apparently a destructive figure to those people. He eventually learned of the meaning behind the title, he'd seen this area rebuild itself from the ruins of the war and he wasn't about to allow some idiots in man-skirts tear the world apart.

From that day on he'd learned to the live with the title, and in a way it was appropriate he'd been burned by man's hatred once before and survived.

This figure at the other end of the scope seemed strange, completely intent on gathering information as opposed to mere survival suggesting he was working for a higher organisation. This bared investigation, he'd been alerted to the scene to see that man carrying the women away from the super mutant perhaps this man was friend of theirs, certainly men worth meeting, or perhaps they represented a larger organisation of slave hunters. Or perhaps the outcome would be less optimistic, maybe this man was part of the organisation that had been running the slavers and was sent to investigate, couldn't risk that.

The route to the town was quiet, most likely that raiders had heard of the fight back to the south and had decided not to risk an encounter with such a hard target. There seemed to have been some sort of battle on the route however, he quickly scanned the area but he seemed to be out of sight for the sniper's nest reported by Legion infiltrators, the ominous 'hydra' as it had been incorrectly called by some of the local troops was out of his rather impressive line of sight.

There were two corpses and a pile of destabilised matter suggesting that whoever had fired upon them had access to advanced weaponry, as one might expect from someone with the technical background to pick a slave collar. This confirmed that he was on the right case, a second hint was the pair of foot prints in the ground marked by flecks of dried blood, one set seemed to be two people walking very close together, probably the person who liberated the concubine.

He remembered back to the previous scene, the footprints that had lead him to this road were uneven, one side seemed to be weighed down much more than the other. As was to be expected the slave was slowing them down, from previous hunts he could tell that they would most likely have made it to town some time around dusk yesterday. It was probable that they were heading up to the Strip or one of it's outlying slums. In the city proper, according to Inculta they could find well paying work as strippers and servants and the towns surrounding it were filled with other opportunities. The most prudent course of action would be to try and gather information from the kings and the Followers of the Apocalypse, the only two groups in the area likely to have the resources and the motives to help an emancipator.

The town sat in a large and desolate area, to most people that would be considered exposed, to anyone who knew about the first-recon snipers that guarded it that understood they just had a really massive kill zone.

A middle aged man in full NCR ranger armour was making his way here with a limp. Even with all of his cybernetics and the rangers evident injuries that man had twenty pounds and twenty years over him, never mind his armour, never mind his backup, never mind the fact that he needed information not resources. "Awfully sharp for a wanderer my friend, what brings ya here?" Andy said as a greeting and a question both. "Wandered in from Primm on my way to The Strip, I heard there's a guy here, good with machines hoped he could help me out with something." The infiltrator replied in a soft almost detached voice implying a deep calm unfortunately uncommon in these times. "Ya mean Yorick, came in with some girl yesterday night, headed out Vegas way, you can probably catch up with 'em she weren't walking right probably slowed 'em down." "Excellent, I and the Crimson Caravan have a rather pressing business proposition for him." The infiltrator said nonchalantly lest he arouse suspicion. "Oh, well you give him my best." Andy said as he ambled back to his room.

The man walked out of town as quickly as he could without standing out, the snipers Belvedere may have been behind him but that was hardly enough to stop a good sniper from simply getting up onto the roof of that thing. The thought pressed on his mind as he wandered along the winding road towards New Vegas.

Yorick and April had made good progress all things considered, April's limp had obviously hampered the matter but by this time they'd figured out a decent rhythm to their movements. In order to keep himself from going insane from the tedium of walking Yorick would often busy his powerful mind by studying objects of interest. In this case he'd been 'studying' April, her features were still oddly untarnished, her lipstick heavy eyeliner and it's accompanying eye shadow remained strangely untarnished, despite her rather dubious eating habits and the harsh milieu. Then he looked very closely at her, the marking's seemed very close to the skin and too well done to have been readily applied by herself.

That was when he remembered apprentice Santangelo pestering him to help her code a permanent makeup module for an auto-doc , the effects probably would've been something similar, due to the Legion's backwards view on technology they were unfortunately without such helpful measures as an auto-doc's dexterity… or anaesthetic.

She noticed his gaze. "I-Is there some-th-thing on my face." she said as she prodded her face with a long delicate finger. "No, no it's just that when I get bored I look at interesting things…and your interesting." "Ah." she said with a smile in the way all females do when they believe something to be cute. Normally Yorick found it grating when he was called cute. But there was something about April that made all the little annoyances of most people he found so irritating seem so abstract and unimportant. "Re-Really me?" she said in astonishment. No one had ever actually found her interesting, nor had she ever considered herself, or anything around her even anyone around her interesting for a long while much of life in the slave camps was the same day in and day out, a constant misery terrible but in a way that dulls you to the world as opposed to leaving you sharp and focussed. Her slave collar was always just tight enough that she could never quite forget it was there, never quite forget what she was to the lecherous soldiers.

"Well of course your interesting, I've barely ever left my base and you've seen the entire southwest." He said with a hint of childish curiosity. "I-I'm not that int-interesting." she said as she shyly looked away. "Nonsense you're a human being with all your hopes and dreams and little quirks…and such." he said as he trailed off, not thinking of how to actually end the sentence. April simply smiled back lost for words.


	4. Chapter 4: More Than Our Mere Philosophy

The man had been 'following' their trail, well technically he'd been working on deductive reasoning, a system which could be frightfully inaccurate at times and it was likely that If he had gone the wrong way there wouldn't be enough time to catch up to them before they got lost in the crowds. It was also probable that if he allowed the deaths of two Legionnaires and the escape of a slave to go unpunished as well as returning without an emancipator he'd probably be lucky to keep his head on his shoulders.

Nonetheless he'd spotted a tiny settlement up ahead, if his map was accurate then it was the "188 Trading post." If he was lucky the proprietor would have information on them as they would most likely stand out from a crowd, couples were rare in this day and age, even rarer to be travelling this way. If he was very lucky with the slave's bad legs and no reason to rush they might've stopped to take a break there and he could be back to the Fort by Wednesday with their heads held high.

"Y-Yorick m-my legs hurt, can w-we rest?" April asked sounding like a bored child as she pointed to the collection of shacks and merchant stalls. "Yeah, we've got the time." He replied, secretly thankful that he could take a rest, he wasn't getting any younger and nothing seemed to be getting any lighter. More than anything he was happy that she was confident enough to ask for things instead of just suffering in silence which no doubt sounded silly to most people, of course most people hadn't spent much of their lives as slaves.

They walked into the small and poorly built trading station "Sam, 'Chelle mind if we catch a break." He said to the entrepreneurial traders. "Sure." Michelle said almost perkily. Samuel merely nodded.

They sat at an old bench and chatted quietly, feeling the need to be quiet that often comes from being in a quiet place. "S-so you know those p-people." April asked as she looked up at Sam's dour visage, the stress of running this little trading outpost was evidently getting to him. "Yeah, their nice people, little odd but still nice." He said as he sipped at his purified water, April seemed to have guzzled hers already, in her now familiar style of consuming what was handed to her as soon as possible, most likely an instinct born from greedy (or rather desperate) slaves back at her camp.

"Wh-what's it like?" April asked with a childlike innocence. "What's what like." He said as he bought out another ration bar and broke it in half, though secretly gave much more to April, figuring that she seemed to need, or at least want it more. "T-travelling w-wherever you w-want." She said between mouthfuls. "It's nice being so free, but it get's pretty lonely." he said with naked honesty. He had no intention of dumping his problems on the little lost woman but he still wanted to let it out, if only a little. On the outside he was rarely actually alone but without friends or family he was always lonely. Until now.

These last few days he felt like he was home again, having someone he could trust with his more private details, that feeling of admiration he used to see in the scribes under him, he sometimes wondered how the order did without his guidance but he was sure they would be up to the task if he was a worthwhile mentor. But most of all there was just something about her that seemed to make him feel a little bit less like a temporary wanderer in these wastes and more like he was…home.

"W-well at least y-you've got m-me." she said cheerily as she grasped his off hand. Normally he recoiled at being touched without permission but after a day and a half of constant contact he wasn't all that bothered, though the…brazenness of April's action was still quite a shock. He was the equivalent of a professor, well read, pushing fifty and for the moment completely speechless. "I…" he went to mumble ineloquently before a welcome distraction appeared from out of the blue.

"Yori?" a young woman in a set of old and tattered robes sat herself down rather intrusively next to April who squirmed away and nervously withdrew her hand. "Journeyman Santangelo?" He replied authoritatively half in annoyed confusion and half in pleasant surprise. "Shh." she said ,mischievously. "You don't want an angry mob coming after us." she said with slight smirk, though the look in her eyes intimated that she was quite serious. "And who's this?" She said playfully towards April, who seemed to quiver slightly at the stranger's attention.

"April, I'd like you to meet Veronica Santangelo." Somewhat less nervous for knowing Yorick liked her she beamed a wide smile at Veronica "Are you sure she talks, Yorick." Veronica asked with a wry smirk at the corner of her lips. "Yes, She's just a little bit nervous around strangers." he said calmingly.

"By the way what are you doing here, thought you preferred scavenging around the south?" Veronica said as she leaned forwards to rest her elbows on the old table. "I'm heading up to Outer Vegas, see if there's something the Followers can do for April's legs." "They look fine from here." Veronica said with a flirtatious grin.

"M-my le-legs d-don't work s-so well." April spluttered out, even more tongue tied than usual. To her she was stuck between a strange woman, a concrete fence and a table, and like any trapped animal she would either fight or panic, unfortunately the Legion had more or less bred 'fight' out of her vocabulary.

"So, how's the…" Yorick quickly checked for eavesdroppers. "Brotherhood without me." he continued though he whispered 'Brotherhood' just to be safe. "We don't have a head scribe, what do you think?" she replied sardonically. "They didn't come looking for me or Garibaldi so I'm guessing either very well or very dead." Yorick said acrimoniously as he bitterly remembered his part in the Brotherhood's sad saga of defeat.

He had always resented the fact that Mc Namara hadn't bothered to make an exception to that paranoid lockdown for the Head Scribe yet he was prepared to send and receive scouting parties, he always suspected it had to do with his involvement in getting that fool Elijah a position of leadership.

Around a decade ago the Brotherhood had decided that it would set out to take the Hoover Damn from some 'savages' and as such formed a chapter with that as it's central aim besides securing that territory for the Brotherhood. Every chapter had an Elder as the codex dictated, the Elder Council had decided to place Head Knight Mc Namara in command.

Yorick was not so big on the idea, their mission was scientific and therefore should be lead by a scientist. For science. Knowing that even as one of the 'youngest' Head Scribes in the order he wasn't experienced enough to lead, nor was he that interested in doing so. He conspired with a long time ally, former mentor and fellow visionary a Head Scribe known as Elijah who seemed to feel the same way with years in the position under his belt and a knew way of doing things.

They gathered support, first in the Scribes who had wanted more say for nearly a century and then gathered a fair number of followers in the other divisions before they presented the petition along with an impassioned speech to the Council, fortunately Yorick's family had been of high standing for years and the help of Elder Velasco did not go unnoticed. In the end it worked and Elijah accepted, there was uproar among the knights and the paladins but ultimately amounted to nothing. they were unaccustomed to getting their way with legislature as opposed to lasers.

Under Elijah's reigns Yorick was in essence the second in command to the entire 'Mojave Chapter' this left him with a wide amount of sway to conduct his own research and for a time things seemed to be going well for him. If the endeavour proved successful it was highly likely there would be more Scribe Elders in the future, leading to a greater voice for them in the Brotherhood's politics. From there he hoped that new voice would allow the scribes to finally make real scientific progress so that instead of recapturing old-world technology they could recapture the spirit of innovation that made such feats of engineering possible.

And then Helios, Elijah had became fascinated with the ancient wonder, as befit's a man in his position. Unbefitting of someone in his position he decided, irrationally to attempt to hold the area in the face of the NCR, a large and organised army beyond a single chapter's ability to resist.

Whilst that trouble brewed Elijah had sent his right hand, namely Yorick to scout out some food synthesisers he'd heard mention of in an old invoice memo in the Helios mainframe believing that they would be invaluable in the event of a siege and in the long term it could provide leverage to rally the natives in their defence with the promise of free food or as a bargaining chip with the NCR.

As luck would have it the NCR attacked at that exact time, without the first and second in command the Brotherhood's lines fell into disarray and the NCR overwhelmed their defences. and from there the rest was history. That madman Elijah got half of a chapter killed, the leadership of the scribes was lost and Mc Namara assumed command of the operation secluding the chapter in some hidden safe house that only a select few were permitted to enter or leave. Even worse this unprecedented failure in leadership would be held over the heads of the scribes for years to come and would most likely keep another of their ilk from becoming an Elder for decades.

Yorick had, in his hubris believed he could usher a new golden age in the dwindling days of the order and instead lead (if inadvertently) to the death of numerous honoured brothers and sisters of the order along with exacerbating the conflict between the Brotherhood and the Republic.

Thus was Yorick's greatest shame, for all he'd studied of the old world's science and it's literature he had understood little of it's history and as such was doomed to blindly repeat it in small scale. Ah, what a piece of work is man, the only species on earth smart enough and powerful enough to do something stupid twice.

"Bit of both I s'pose." Veronica replied with a smirk. "Lovely, and I suppose Mc Nammara's got you picking over old store houses for food again." He replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Nope, actually I'm kickin' around with this guy from back west." Yorick simply raised an eyebrow saying all he needed to say, he remembered quite well the sultry look she'd shoot every other woman in the chapter. "No." Veronica said in a stretched out knowing manner. "he's this…Courier called Harrow, I think he's from a vault somewhere, you'd like him, reall smartass you know." "I sn't he the guy who was shot in the head?" Yorick smirked derisively.

Meanwhile April's wide eyes nervously bounced from speaker to speaker with a look of discomfort plastered on her face.

The man had finally caught up to them, from across the way his sharp eyes saw her, he was unfamiliar with the old man but he had been given the slave's picture and even from here he was quite sure it was her, The woman next to him was Veronica Santangelo, she was often seen around this trading post purchasing enough supplies for a large and unknown group, she was also often seen working with a known allie of the NCR the 188 would be a good place to meet a fellow emancipator perhaps she was part of an 'underground railroad' of sorts. The fact that she was seen working with a known agent of the Republic suggested that they were involved as well, possibly there just to provide relief or perhaps sponsoring it below the board to spread anarchy in the Legion lands.

Either way he knew what he needed to do as he loaded a single hollow point bullet into his weapon.

"So Yori why didn't you tell me you had a girlfreind?" Veronica smirked as she looked at april, ounce again sqeuking in fear. She turned her head to face Yorick as he began to speak. "We…I… She's." Yorick mannered to stammer out. "Oh come now Yor-" A shot rang out from the distance and struck Veronica in the side of the head. April screamed as loudly as she'd ever heard.

She toppled over and fell with an unusual grace to the floor. "Get down." Yorick shouted over the screams of the other traders and travellers. They both ducked under the concrete fence hoping it would provide adequate cover. There was a small trickle of blood that ran over Veronica's face and she didn't seem to move.

Yorick took a moment to register her passing, she was his only connection to his old home, he'd known her all his life and for all their squabbles over the years she was still his friend and he was proud to call her a sister of the steel. Now she was gone.

"April stay down, I'm going to see what I can do for these people." He said as he crawled away in a trail of expletives a few tears left puddles on the dusty ground.

Yorick remembered there were a few weapons merchents below the bridge along with some caravan guards, hopefully the pressing situation would force them to aid the trading post.

He ran quickly along what little cover he could find before he scrabbled down the cliff to the gun runners who were already locking away their things and setting up a defensive perimiter.

"Hold still Raider." a guard said with his riffle pointed squarely at Yorick's chest.

The Trading post was in dissarray, he'd caught sight of a large number of traders preparing to move their Brahmin and the man talking to Santangelo had scurried down the side. It was possible he had abandoned the slave, in which case he was a coward and forcing him to surrender would be easy enough.

However it was possible he had some form of stock pile there or worse that he was going to try and rally the mercenaries, without backup time was of the essence to capture or kill him before he can mount a defence.

"Raise your hands, raider." the guard said slowly but aggressively. "Im not a Raider!" Yorick shouted back his voice hoarse and still rife with sorrow. "I said rais your ha-" the guard was cut short by a single, well placed headshot.

A man in a black suit stepped out of the shaddows the crunch of his ounce upon a time designer shoes clacking on the pavement had been masked by the ongoing screams of The Forecaster.


	5. Chapter 5: The Worn Brick Road

April had sat cowering in her little corner, she didn't dare move for fear of disturbing that strange woman's corpse she was huddled in on herself her eyes shut tight as she cried whilst the world came crashing down around her. She was disturbed by grunting and the feeling of something brushing against her legs.

The gun runner merchant offered similarly little enough resistance, well his chest cavity offered little resistance anyway. The Forcasters 'unique' mind was bombarded with images and flashes of strange things he didn't truly understand.

Yorick's eyes narrowed as he took a desperado's stance and went to reach for his plasma defender. Unfortunately the agent's reflexes far beyond his and had the pistol aimed still and steady at Yorick's forhead. "I am Ferrum Manus of the Frumentarii and your crimes against Ceaser are at an end. Surrender and you will suffer less." he said in a stern authoritative tone.

"What happens if I don't." Yorick asked defiantly. A lopsided, devilish smile creased Ferrum's colourless lips as he replied. "I will be forced to leave a mess." he said smugly as he advanced, Legion standard procedure dictated that he have the profligate drop his weapon and submit to torture however Ferrum had concluded that such an old and physically deficient person with so much high-technology was most likely the resourceful type, needless to say giving him a good reason to handle his weapon only invited trouble. No instead he would walk up and remove it from the degenerate's holster it was quite likely that anything he could muster would barely be felt due to Ferrum's sub dermal armour.

He was walking along the long flat road the overpass above him left a surpluss of the shadows he was used to jumping out of. "No then just stand still and it'll all be over soon enough." he said with a sadistically drawn out tone. Unfortunately he was not used to the living dead jumping out from above them.

He wnt to speak only to be silenced by a power fist assisted left hook from on high. Veronic landed in a flutter of her robes, the hood lifted enough by the wind to show the recon hood that absorbed the worst of the round.

"Reprobate!" Ferrum shouted in anger as he felt the hot dripping blood seep from his jaw and onto his ounce spotless suit. He went to aim his pistol only for it to be knocked from his grip and sent careening to the ground. "Veronica." he replied in overwhelmed supprise a true and earnest smile on his face. "Get your girl and get running." she said her voice horse. "But." Yorick went to reply still half stunned both at her apparent death and it's remarkable inaffectiveness. "Move." she barked at him like a long dead drill knight she remembered.

"Yorick?" April shouted as she heard the comotion coming from below. "April!" Yorick shouted back as he ran across the tarmacked ground to reach her. "I-It and I and s-she…" April mumbled incoherently between sobs as Yorick lifted her up quickly. "April we've got to get out of here quickly, okay." Yorick said with barely restrained terror in his voice. April simply nodded as she messily wiped the tears away with her cuff.

With a grunt Yorick pulled April over his shoulder into a fireman's carry, she seemed to sqeul in a combination of excitement and terror. "Sorry about this but we really need to get out of here." Yorick said as he jogged off into the distance, his left arm wrapped around April's lower back and his hand resting against her soft thigh.

Beneath the overpass Veronica was rather busy. Her opponent was one of the few members of the Legion granted advanced medical technology, namely cybernetic augmentation, he possessed sub dermal armour on his thoracic, abdominal and cranial areas, he also possessed a series of cranial implants to allow him to better judge probability, increase his intelligence, and his eyesight, he possessed a hyper trophy regulator to grant him inhuman strength and a nociception regulator coupled with a monocite breeder put him well above your average human in terms of endurance. In essence he was stronger smarter and crueller than his opponent.

That made the pneumatically assisted right hook even harder to believe, the fact that an unaltered woman had followed that by a left cross and then completed by a power-assisted uppercut that sent him reeling with his nose at an odd bend. Veronica was a Brotherhood scribe that meant that if it came to an unarmed fight she was prepared to go against the cruellest and most cunning of the Enclave, the strongest of the Super-Mutants or as some unfortunate souls can attest a despicable combination of both.

He struck back with a right wing which gave a her a bloody lip, nothing she couldn't handle. She went for a straight punch square in his face only for him to viciously grasp her arm before callously backhanding her.

Her head was spinning and her right eye was covered in the blood of her head wound, her lip was bleeding and she was still she could land more girls than he could. A low punch to his kidneys seemed to come dangerously close to knocking the wind from his chest.

"You fight well, for a women." he said in a slightly raspy voice. "I could say the same." Veronica said between ragged breaths, she was certainly going to get tired before him leaving her likely to make a sloppy mistake.

He yanked her by the scruff of her rough robes and head butted her with all the force she could muster. She back-pedalled woozily feeling as though she'd been rammed by a bighorner, or taken one too many shots of cheap whisky from Cass.

If he was going to play dirty so was she. She take what little of a running start she could muster and struck outwards with swift swing of her athletic leg straight between his legs.

His face contorted in pain and he seemed genuinely annoyed for a moment opening himself up for another pneumatically enhanced punch to his already tenderised chest, this time she definitely felt as much as heard the crack of a few ribs. However he was still standing.

He lashed out with a powerful kick to her side that caused her to almost 'crumple' inwards from the impact.

That strange old Ghoul had seen the whole thing from another rocky out cropping, this time the man in the suit was definitely hostile, however between the distance and the unpredictability of the fight there was no way to get a clear shot at him. He'd survived all these strange years mostly by keeping a distance between him and his targets but unfortunately the world rarely decided to go with his plans, and he was certainly old enough to know that the best way to survive was to change with the times. He certainly had.

Veronica swung for his face again this time catching him full in the jaw. He staggered back a few paces with thick red blood trailing from the corners of his lip, he spat a single tooth out his now wonky jaw. Before he could react the lithe young woman run and leaped into the air to drop-punch him square in his softened jaw. He fell to the ground his skull smacking into the hard pavement.

Before he could react Veronica had drawn a length of rope from a concealed pocket. He squirmed and writhed as she knelt on him, digging her knee cap into his collarbone as she tied his hands together in a complex and well rehearsed knot.

He grunted and pulled at the rope, most flimsy woven ropes would simply snap at the inhuman force he was subjecting it to, unfortunately that 'rope' was a solid cord old-world nano fibre filament capable of keeping a super mutant in check.

Unfortunately his legs were not so encumbered, he kicked her clear over him and scrabbled to his feet as she tried to do the same.

He was beginning to run in long loping strides far to fast for Veronica to catch up and far too erratically for Veronica to get a good shot with what little pistol training she possessed.

Fortunately he'd also inadvertently managed to run away from his cover, despite two hundred years of use the sniper's eyes were sharp enough to detect him running across the orange ground of the Mojave. He stood ramrod straight bought the scope to his eye and held his breath as he gently pulled the trigger. A bullet struck him first through the left leg thigh and then altered trajectory due to his femur and continued into his right knee.

With his legs knocked out from under him he fell and tumbled along the ground scraping his skin and fraying his suit. Veronica caught up to him struggling along his bloody hands and severely damaged knees just in time to see the sniper slowly make his way over to Ferrum.

"You're welcome." He said to Veronica in a scratchy voice common to most ghouls as he hooked his riffle the attaching clips on his back. "And who are you supposed to be?" Veronica replied as she eyed him suspiciously, as masked men could expect to evoke.

Yorick had ran as swiftly as his old legs would allow, and then some due to the excellent motivation of fear and desperation. He finally petered out at the edge of Vegas his leg's aching and his feet rubbed raw near to the point of bleeding. All the while April had sobbed a sizable wet patch onto the back of his old and dusty jumpsuit.

He wandered around the burnt out husks of derelict buildings searching for an 'Aerotech office' he'd heard of from Vargas when they were chatting about an old comrade of his. His head instinctively darted around warily, he'd heard the reports of the death of the Fiends' leaders but that didn't he would risk having some psycho addled straggler to scrabble out of the rubble and ambush them.

"Y-Yorick where a-are we?" April asked as she looked at a rusted old sign post slowly getting smaller as she was bumped and jostled by Yorick's slightly uneven gait. "I hear there's a refugee camp somewhere around here." "A-Are you s-sure." she said as she looked around the carcasses of the old world. "It's definitely probably here." he said 'reassuringly.'

Eventually they stumbled across a twenty foot fence with equally massive scrap metal barricades and followed it from curve to curve until they found a large rusted door. They stood there for a minute, apparently no one inside the compound had thought to set up a sentry system.

Reassuringly they could hear the dim chatter of other poor souls, the crackle of fire and the patter of footsteps suggesting that there was indeed life within.

Yorick gently lowered April onto the ground and held her steady as she wobbled slightly on the potholed ground.

Yorick pounded on the large metal gate causing it to resonate in the sound of a thunder crack. A moment later it opened slowly with unseen grunts and the sound of tortured metal. A man in NCR armour accompanied by a civilian ghoul stepped into view to greet them, April felt the muscles of Yorick's shoulders tense at the sight of the soldier and Yorick saw the terrified look on April's face and the slight yelp at the sight of the 'dermally challenged' individual.

The Legion considered ghouls and their F.E.V addled counterparts to be inferior to baseline humans and as such were exterminated on sight except for very rare circumstances, and even then they were disposed of ounce they were of no use . The truth of the matter was that super mutants were always too powerful and aggressive to be enslaved and many ghouls were old enough to have seen the pre war world and reveal that all of Legion society was not the result of 'Mars' Creation' and more a matter of one madman's knowledge of history and .

As such April had never seen a ghoul before, at least not alive, which was of course the key physical difference between them and a corpse.

"Names Parker, this is Bert." the officer said in a gruff and weary tone whilst the ghoul in question merely waved amicably, somehow managing to elicit another scared squeak from April. "Is there anything the matter with your friend?" Bert asked politely. April tucked her head towards Yorick's chest, shying away from the question. "I'm sorry she's never seen a ghoul before I don't think." "Well she's welcome here mister…" Bert replied, trailing off to indicate that he wanted their names. "Oh, um April" he said as he just then realised she had no actual last name. "and Yorick Velasco." he said as he pointed to himself.

"Please enjoy your stay Mister and Misses Velasco." Bert said cordially as they made their way inside the gates. "Oh no we're not married!" Yorick said defensively with a wobble of embarrassment in his voice.

"Well either way were pleased to have you." He replied pleasantly as Captain Parker began to push the massive gate back into position.

A short while later Yorick had sat down besides April on the edge of an old fountain that had long since ran dry and had began to accumulate dust and sand in it's deep troughs. "Y-Yorick what was that?" she said as she pointed a finger at Bert who was sat on a ledge opposite them distracted in paperwork. "Well, he's what you call a ghoul, you see their people like us who've been changed by radiation and now they look like that and they live forever." he said in an educational tone. "F-forever." she said as she eyed the man amazed that he could hold together for a few more months much less until the sun goes out. "Yep." "Y-Yorick wh-what's radiation." April asked in childlike confusion. "Well it's like light, except invisible." he said oversimplifying the concept of light's 'visibility.' She simply nodded in understanding.

Later that night April had snuggled up in a dusty old bedroll content to sleep even in these conditions whilst Yorick walked around the camp to find Bert who he discovered was reading from an old book. Yorick felt that was too rare a sight, all the factions he knew of seemed to concern themselves with the old-world however few cared for anything other weapons of war and perhaps medical techniques. As a scientist Yorick had of course contributed to that but he had also dabbled in something far more necessary, culture. When humanity got back on it's feet it would barely have learnt anything of the civilization they replaced, all that history and art and beauty forgotten it was so saddening to think that the only true casualty of the great war was the only thing that was universal and exclusive to human kind, never mind that it rendered, to his knowledge over six thousand years of recorded history and the struggles before hand meaningless. A truly depressing prospect.

He shook the depressing thought from his head as he got close enough to recognise the tattered cover of The Iliad as he sat down opposite him. "What may I help you with?" The old ghoul said as he delicately moved a silk page holder into place and closed his book. "Well I heard you reading from your bibble today." Yorick said exposing one of his few areas of ignorance. "You mean 'Bible'…I think." Bert replied patiently. "Well anyway as I understand it that makes you some kind of vicar or whatever and you give out advise, right." "Im not a vicar per se but yes I give advise, what's the problem." he said too tired to bother correcting the many errors in Yorick's assumption.

"Well you see." he said as he looked around for a moment before continuing in a whisper. "This is all confidential, right?" he stated. Burt nodded. "April really likes me and I feel the same, problem is well…she used to be a Legion concubine but then I rescued her when a super mutant attacked their caravan." He said quickly. "And you're afraid your taking advantage of her I suppose." Bert replied calmly, a long life of listening to the problems of others had left him numb to a large variety of situations. "Well yes, I believe she's been terribly mistreated all her life I don't know if she really thinks of love the way most people do." "Have you bought this up with her." Bert asked calmly. "Well of course not, I haven't the courage." "You just said you killed a super mutant." Bert said with disbelief. "Well I don't intend to shoot her." "I take it you've always been kind to her?" Bert asked gently so as to avoid offending. "Yes, I've helped her walk al the way from Novac." "Well then If she cares for you and you care for her then it could be the best thing for her."


	6. Chapter 6: Love And Warfare

It was night at the edges of the 188 and Ferrum was beginning to stir from the unconsciousness induced by his injuries and the resulting blood loss. Fortunately his phoenix system had proven up to the task of fixing his damaged body before blood loss set in and whilst he would almost certainly need to go through the painful process of breaking and resetting his legs to ensure they healed properly that was another trial for another day. For the moment he had a more pressing disruption to deal with.

A Crag-skin in old armour was watching him a sidearm at his hip accompanied by the damnable bitch in the robes. He strained to move but noted rather soon that he was much more properly restrained this time, his arms were bound behind his back and his legs were tied to the legs of his chair. "Hello Sleepyhead." the woman said with a mocking smirk, one he intended to wipe from her face…slowly if possible.

"Degenerates." was Ferrum's apathetic response his eyes seemed focussed to a proverbial razor's edge as he looked straight into her eyes with a baleful gaze. His mind busily searched for a way to escape, the ghoul had the look of a professional about him from his attire to his mannerisms and armament suggesting he was the person who shot him through the legs. An intriguing foe, it would be most illuminating to find out just what a ghoul looks like when you choke it.

A crowd of cattle and their livestock were gathered in the background most likely passing civilians, innocents in oversimplified terms, they would prove interesting playthings if he escaped. When he escaped, Caesar's will would see to that.

The ghoul approached him this time and spoke. "Degenerates, that's a Legion word now isn't it? Ya see when I was like you… well never like **you**" the bile was apparent in his rasping voice. " lot's o' people used that word, 'specially intelligent people." he continued as he pointed to himself with a slight smirk. Two 'comedians' just what he needed. "Those intelligent people also know it comes from the Romans…jus' like the rest of your little tribe."

Ferrum thrashed at his restraints testing the limits of the titanium chair he was lashed to. Not because of the 'revelation' that Legion society was an improvement of the ancient Romans, no all Frumentarii agents were told of this fact and had come to terms with it safe in the knowledge that the Romans died because they abandoned their ideals and became as decadent as the barbarians they bordered whilst no such thing could be allowed to happen under the flag of the Bull. No the outrage was the implication not only that they were doomed to follow their predecessors but also the fact that this profligate had implied they were already no better than the savages they enlightened.

"Aw I think you made him angry." Veronica said as she looked at him with her hands resting on her knees. "They can be so savage." The old shuffler said as he guzzled a sunset sarsaparilla, it's ancient juices soothing his scratchy throat.

"Hey if he's angry now he's going to need new words by the end." He said with a wide self indulgent smirk.

His attention turned to the savage in question. "I'm Captain Monroe Blake Vegas P.D. what's your name." Ferrum would normally withhold his name if only to spite him but he had declared it to that old man in sufficient volume that she could probably have heard him rendering his silence moot and to his mind petty. Ferrum uttered his name to them quiet and calm as he always was on the outside whilst all the while he thought of the gruesome fates he would love to inflict upon them the second he was released.

"See now when you came 'round shooting ma new friend here" He said allowing his southern twang to show through as he gestured to Veronica, notably sporting a bandage that peaked out from the cowl of her robes. "You hollered to a friend o' hers said he was 'under arrest' like your some kinda law man." His playful tone changing to a more aggressive tone. "Question is, why d'ya wan' him." he said as he leaned in and whispered the words with a chilling tone, the same one Ferrum used as he began working over one of his subjects. Just for a moment he wanted to know what kind of torture this man would force upon him, with over two centuries of experience he was sure to be familiar with a wide spectrum of techniques, a part of him would consider the following a learning experience. He wondered for a second if he knew how to disable the pain suppressant implant at the nape of his neck he wondered for a moment if he would truly feel again when they dug that chip out of his hide. And then he remembered that uniform, he was a police man.

The old-world had failed because it was too soft much like the NCR that sought to replace it he doubted someone so ingratiated into it's 'Justice' system would really be prepared to torture him. He let out a disappointed sigh that gave away nothing to his captors.

That being said his mission was quite straight forward, capture an emancipator and bring him back alive, recover the concubine if possible; the woman in the robes seemed to know the man who had accompanied the slave meaning she most likely knew who she was and as such could probably figure out his mission based on the fact that she was a Legion slave and he was a Legion agent who had come after someone who aided a slave.

That's when it hit him. Based on the position of the sun he'd been out for sufficient time to bind him and disclose such basic information a few times over, instead he had been forced to grill him for such knowledge suggesting only one thing. They didn't trust each other. This of course suggested that they were not working for the same faction, the ghoul wore his own uniform, one that was well known but carried no wait, the fact that he had held onto it for what could only be sentimental reasons implied that he was a loner whilst the woman lacked any kind of uniform though the fact that she was equipped with some form of armour capable of resisting a headshot she was probably being supplied by someone with access to some previous pre-war tech.

He ran through the possible sources:

The NCR would most likely send out a counter-intelligence operative but from what he could understand from snippets of conversation she was familiar in these parts and a deep cover operative would almost certainly never expose herself like this, indeed from the moment he saw her she had made choices clearly un-becoming of a spy.

The Enclave would certainly have the technology but it was unlikely any remained and even more unlikely that they would ever tarry to expose themselves to the radiation soaked wasteland for the years she evidently had and even stranger that she wasn't an old woman or a charred skeleton.

The Boomers had access to pre war military storehouses, they might have been able to fashion an armour of this type but intelligence reports suggested that they were absolute isolationists and would be very unlikely to care one way or another about the fate of slaves. Also she hadn't thrown even a single grenade at him.

The only remaining faction, by process of elimination was the Brotherhood of Steel, and it was a compelling opportunity. They had the technology, they were believed to send gathering parties out into the wasteland and they would be one of the few factions to consider such protection 'light' armour.

He realised now that she had with held information because that old man was also probably a part of the Brotherhood, perhaps one of the dozen exiles milling around the Mojave who'd gone native. If that was the case he'd learnt more from his interrogation than they ever would.

His original plan following his escape had simply been to kill both of them in their sleep and run away into the night, but now it was clear that if he could bring back a single Brotherhood member then their scientific or military knowledge would prove invaluable in devising an attack strategy for when they took the area and inevitably locked horns with them.

The man was older and evidently hadn't been assigned to such a trivial role as procuring food combined with her willingness to fight to defend the man suggested he was the superior officer. Unfortunately as fate would have it such a prize would be hard to plunder, he had ran in the direction of Vegas, the most heavily defended are in the Mojave, The Strip, camp Mc Carran and even Freeside, The Crimson Caravan base, The Gun Runner factory all of whom were well fortified compounds that would most likely rally together in the event of a Legion assault, needless to say mounting a war to take the Mojave for one man's advice on taking the Mojave seemed a tad counter intuitive.

The morning had crested over the Mojave once again and April had awoken to find Yorick already awake, the bags under his eyes seemed heavier and he rubbed his neck with a strange combination of subtlety and force trying to knead out a knotted muscle in the flesh of his lower neck.

April awoke from her slumber with a moderate yawn as her mind slowly warmed itself up. "Morning." he said with a slight wince as he still tried to get at the dull ache in his flesh. "I-I can h-help." April suggested as she sat up allowing her to look over his balding head. He thought for a second, a women in such a venerable profession as hers would quite possibly be talented in massage and he was quite certain she would be more gentle than Doctor Schuler when it came to physiotherapy. His mind turned to her and a small smile crossed his lips as he thought of her and her constant scrapping with that glory hound Taggart. According to Veronica Lars had been made head scribe in his absence, as opposed to his standing suggestion of Schuler or Ibsen. A calculated move on Mc Nammara's part Taggart was weak willed and incompetent enough to prevent the Scribes from gathering nearly as much influence as they had before.

He realised he hadn't answered April yet and she seemed to be fit to burst with anticipation. "Yes, thank you April." he said as he turned to put his back in front of her. She repositioned so that her long legs sat around his.

She gently pressed into the tensed tissue slowly unwinding the tension in his back as he felt his muscles slacken. He felt a reassuring click along his spine as they too seemed to fade from his senses replaced only by a sense of ease that seemed to permeate him down to his very consciousness.

He let out a long sigh and noticed that he was still sat there with a dopey smile on his face even after April had turned away from him and sat there with a nervous look on her face, Yorick's slight groan had elicited a glance from many of the refugees she was unaccustomed to the number of eyes upon her though the filthy stare of the man in a red jumpsuit had sent a cold chill down her spine, Yorick had told her to avoid him at all costs and reminded her that he wouldn't be too far away for her to call him back, he seemed to say it just loud enough for the man to hear it.

He handed her a nutrient bar as he bit into his own. In a manner he had grown more accustomed to she devoured the entire thing in a few massive bites whilst Yorick took a few more regularly sized ones before delicately picking the stray crumbs from his well groomed beard.

Yorick pulled April up with a greater ease than before, his old tendons and well worn muscles feeling much more invigorated by the recent massage. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders as she had grown accustomed.

They walked over to parker by the gate. "Captain Parker we'd like to set off." Yorick said formally, he was still set somewhat at odds with the man an active NCR officer who wouldn't think twice about gunning him down if his origin got out. "See you round." he said coolly as he pulled the door open just enough for them to make their way out before pushing it shut on it's tired old hinges.

"S-so how l-long do y-you think it'll t-take to get to th-the clinic." April said with a hint of childlike anticipation in her voice. " Shouldn't be more than an hour." he said distractedly as he looked through his binoculars scanning the area in numerous spectrums for Fiends, who had so far proven quite extinct, more than once they had come across a pile of ash or modulated goop with a goat horn helmet suggesting that someone with access to some serious tech had finally decided to clear them out.

"So Y-Yorick… w-where do we go after that." she asked with a hint of confusion in her whispery voice. The question caught him off guard, he had tried to avoid getting pegged down with the logistics of it, paying for a treatment would probably take every last cap he owned leaving him little to support April with and much less time to go scavenging never mind that keeping her in a tiny apartment with barely anyone to talk to put a nasty taste in his mouth. He would most likely be forced to find an actual job but that would prove harder still, he had read reports of ex-brotherhood members being hunted down for attempting to give Order secrets to the outsiders, not something he was prepared to risk.

He resolved that he would simply take it one day at a time, he had survived a war and a wasteland with nothing but his wits for four years he was quite sure that finding money would be easy enough. A shame though he was hoping to retire to The Strip and whittle away his days at the Tops.

He was silent for a long time lost in his thoughts and so was April her face mirroring his own lost in thought, an earnest smile on her face.

The thoughts on such a matter would prove futile, at that particular moment his radio blared into life. It was a report from radio New Vegas.

Caesar's legion had attacked the dam… War had been declared the second battle of the Hoover Dam had begun. Not so far away the sound of distant explosions and gunfire, in the thrum of an old vertibird could be heard.

For a moment he wondered on who's side the Brotherhood was but then he realised it didn't matter, he had more important things.


	7. Chapter 7: Dagger Of The Mastermind

The promised clinic was now in sight as indicated by a little wooden sign nailed to the doorframe, though after so much anticipation the actual building was a bit disappointing, it was an old squat little bungalow with dark, vandalised windows and cracked walls leaving it seemingly little different from many of the dilapidated buildings in the area.

"This is it, I suppose." Yorick said with a slight sigh, truth be told his medical knowledge was administering a stimpack and disinfecting a wound but even he knew that hospitals were meant to be clean and whilst he had yet to see the interior he was less than impressed by the exterior. Still though this was the best time to act, it was quite probable there would be wounded in the coming days most likely swamping the Followers. Never mind that if by some twisted miracle the Legion took the Dam then getting out quickly would certainly prove quite necessary.

They walked in to see a dimly lit waiting room with a pair of poorly equipped though jovial mercenary guardsmen and behind a till a woman in a Followers Uniform smiled pleasantly, though Yorick's time on the surface had made it quite clear that saleswomen always smile, although the Followers tended to be a high spirited lot.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Usinagi how may I help you two." She said with a polite inflection. April pulled a slightly nervous face as she looked around the dark and dingy room and noticed the mercenaries, for all their professional courtesy they were armed men who quite well resembled the caravan guards that had marched her across the wastes those few days ago.

"April here is in need of medical assistance." He said officially and bluntly, as he often did when he couldn't quite think of a way to answer something pithily, a holdover of his time as Head Scribe, though that life seemed more and more distant as he thought of it. April simply nodded eagerly with a wide smile, something she had grown more and more accustomed to.

"Step through then, please." the Doctor said as she gestured for them to follow her into the medical room. Yorick looked around and continued to be disappointed, a gurney half hidden by a privacy curtain was marred by a large blood stain and had an obsolete auto-doc at it's head. The room was as dingy as any other leaving him to give a quiet frown as the doctor patted the 'clean' gurney. Yorick lifted her onto the high bed as the doctor bought a tray of implements on a wheeled metal table to the side. Yorick silently examined the tools and was pleased to see they had been expertly cleaned and well maintained.

"So what seems to be the problem?" she said as she turned to April who was sat with a moderately distressed look on her face as she subconsciously wiggled her feet which hung off the edge of the bed. "W-Well m-my l-legs don't work." she said nervously as she grasped Yorick's hand, her nimble little fingers intertwining with his podgy digits and gripping tight. "How did you damage them Ma'am." the doctor said with a slightly curious tilt of the head. "Th-the L-legion b-broke my legs." she said with a genuine pout.

Dr. Usinagi nodded sombrely, she was unfortunately familiar with Legion slaves who would often wander into Follower clinics looking for help, other times they were simply beyond assistance either too physically or mentally damaged by the rigors of their brutal overlords and left to life living as vagrants and beggars. This time, however was different she seemed to have someone with a vested interest in her life an all too rare and rather necessary component in the rehabilitation process.

"Okay, we have experience with this kind of thing, I just need you to kick off your shoes for a simple test, okay April." she nodded eagerly a childish smile revealing her wonky teeth. Yorick removed the shin-high leather boots and placed them neatly at the foot of the bed before returning to her side.

Doctor Usinagi began the procedure by gently grasping April's calf. She pulled her leg back and attempted to squirm off the table. " April, April it's okay, she just wants to know what they did." Yorick said calmly as he steadied her with a kind of gentle force similar to grasping a child. "Are y-you sure." she said with a harried huff. "Don't worry I'll be right here." he said with a warming smile hidden by his beard and moustache combination as he placed his comparatively small hand in hers as she immediately grasped it.

Dr Usinagi performed the test with the utmost delicacy, with a gentle press of the thumb she confirmed that she had been crippled in the usual way, her shin bones were broken and never set right and her muscles seemed to be weak and much too malleable for someone of her age and health, suggesting that her bones had been broken and a controlled application of rad-scorpion venom had been used during her formative years to prevent proper muscular development in the legs, a simple but effective method which meant that most likely the muscles and tendons all along her legs were to one degree or another weakened or malformed despite a lack of actual scars.

"If you'll just wait here, the tests will take some to run." She said pleasantly. "How long?" Yorick asked bluntly as he turned to her. "Six hours, including paperwork." She replied hesitantly. "Fine." Yorick said as he made no attempt to move from his impromptu seat of an old stepping stool."

The hours of tests passed and then were left to sit in silence as Usinagi studied the results and conferred with her colleague whilst April slept and Yorick did the same, sleeping soundly on the other medical gurney until the door creaked open on old and rusty hinges.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news." Doctor Usinagi said as she closed the door. Yorick levelled his gaze. "We can't fix your legs as such but…"

As the night before battle descended Ferrum knew from the crackling voice of Mister New Vegas that the time had come, if the Legion was to secure the Mojave they would need the Scribe **now**. Unfortunately due to the pressure of the coming war it was likely that every able bodied man and probably most of thralls were going to be sent to the dam.

The ghoul and the woman were stood guard outside speaking, though with his face mask up it was hard to tell. The rope was far beyond his ability to break, though fortunately Ferrum like all soldiers was dangerous because he was a thinking man not an un-thinking tool. He shook his right arm vigorously and thought for a moment they might have confiscated it whilst he was unconscious before it slipped out of it's specially fitted pocket and straight into his waiting hand.

He flicked it open revealing it to be a on old yet elegant weapon, from a more civilised age. He knew full well that it would only break against his bonds, the chair on the other hand was vastly less resilient by a bizarre twist of fate.

Ferrum grunted slightly as he forced the blade into the weak weld of the thin arching beam holding up his back rest.

"Roe I promised." Veronica said in a hushed tone. "your just going to have to trust me." she continued just outside Ferrum's holding place. "Trus' I **shot **the fucker!" Monroe hissed as he pointed in his quarry's direction. "But the only way I can help is if I know everythin' about the shootin' okay so trust me, I've been puttin' scum like this down since before you were born" He continued with his gravelly voice in a dead serious grumble.

"Look you have to promise not to tell anyone." Veronica said as she leaned in conspiratorially. "Who am I goanna tell,?" he asked derisively. "Do you know about the Brotherhood of Steel?" She asked cautiously. "Well now…" Monroe said slowly before he noticed something missing from the corner of his eyes. His ear-nubs pricked and he stuck out a partially necrotised finger to silence Veronica.

He ran to the bus carcass only to find it deserted, perhaps for minutes perhaps for hours. "Goddamn it!" he said as he picked up his weathered old riffle. "He certainly doesn't quit." Veronica observed.

Ferrum ran in an awkward yet effective gait with his bound hands behind him. He felt a rush of exhilaration as he fled from his captors, pleased to face a real challenge on assignment though disappointed to learn that at best the Burned Man was just a curmudgeonly old ghoul who's hometown was probably well into their territory by now. More importantly he wouldn't be able to preside over a public execution, robbing him of his chance of glory in the eyes of the common people though it should prove more than enough to wrangle a promotion in the wake of the Mojave campaign, one way or another.

"Where are you going?" she said as she saw him pull his tactical vest over his head and start strapping his combat helmet on. "I've taken down every criminal assigned to me for two hundred an' eighteen years, an' I'll be damned If I'm missin' one now." He said as he ran off into the night. "Wait up." Veronica shouted as she slid her gloved hand into her power fist.

From what he could remember from before he blacked out he had caught a glimpse of the man running north with the woman on his shoulder, the most likely place that way for him to go would be the Follower's Medical Clinic, fortunately due to the Followers' somewhat subversive nature and the looming war it was likely that all the local forces would allow him to attack so long as they left again quickly.

Unfortunately that facility itself still had a few defenders and a larger contingent at the Old Mormon Fort, far to large for one unarmed man to handle alone.

He had a plan, as he always did, the Legion had reports of a group of wannabe raiders in the area. Specifically the Powder Gangers, who resided within vault nineteen, a group of escaped NCR prisoners, and normally the Legion would shoot the murderous anarchistic scum on sight, but then his was a rather atypical order and they would be allowed to move more freely than legionnaires, not to mention he wouldn't need to share the glory.

He opened the manhole cover and slid down the accompanying ladder before he made his way down the chasm towards the giant cog shaped door. He manipulated the Vault-Tech control console until he heard the telltale alarm of a vault door opening. Every muscle in his body tensed, his instincts caused him to squirm in the presence of such a loud noise, it was likely everyone in the vault knew of his arrival and would not be pleased.

The door slid open revealing a few scruffily dressed men and women, their worn down, though still lethal weapons pointed square at him. He raised his hands and stared calmly at the centre man, presumably the leader by the way he carried himself. "I've murdered good men for less, Suit." the lowbrow man said coldly and bitterly. Ferrum felt as though he had returned home.

"I understand you are a gang of murderous prisoners and rapists who killed your NCR guards and hid here with the intent of looting and pillaging across the Mojave." Ferrum returned calmly without granting his adversary the pleasure of seeing him flinch ."Yeah." was the man's casual response. "And to stay afloat you do some raiding and mercenary work, correct?" "Is this going anywhere…because I get a little stabby when I'm bored."

Ferrum let a toothy smile cross his lips before he spoke and noticed the shiver down one guard's spine. "I have a business proposition for your leader that you're just going to love."

He was marched into a large office and sat before a dark skinned man sat before an overseers office, if Ferrum remembered reports from the siege of vault ninety-nine correctly there was a pair of high power Gatling guns in conjunction with the turrets already fixed on him, a strong bargaining position if ever he saw one. "Leave us." the man said to his guard, the traits of command had proven quite agreeable to him.

Ferrum recognised the leader's face behind a mask of grime and a long full beard. He had lead a small incursion straight into California to scout out their opponents and during that time heard reports of a rebel by the name of Samuel Cooke, when one of his agents approached him with a business proposition the grand rebel leader had rebuffed them, claiming in his words that they were worse than the NCR, a distasteful prospect. That being said he still commanded a certain respect from Ferrum, resisting the NCR alone and with his wits as his only true defence for the sake of principles, however misguided.

"Smythely said you have a business proposition, Mister…" He gestured for a name. "Horatio Grey." Ferrum said without moving a muscle on the death mask of his pallid expressionless face. "Well, lay it on me." He said calmly shrugging his shoulders. " The Followers of the Apocalypse have joined with the NCR to produce a bio weapon, they intend to release on the Mojave, I need you to help me storm their clinic so I can capture or kill the scientist responsible." "And jut who are you, why should I trust you?" The leader said as crossed his arms and leaned back. "Because Samuel you inspired some people back west who want to keep this place free, I can't name names in case of capture but rest assured…you aren't alone."

Samuel allowed a contented smile to cross his lips. Ferrum had planned this perfectly, despite being the most competent leader he'd seen in this cadre of murderous psychopaths he was still susceptible to the oldest trick in story telling, 'give the audience what it wants.'

"Very well we can set off in an hour." "Excellent, my benefactors have allowed me to present you with this." Ferrum reached into his concealed pocket and yanked loose from their stitching two sacks of caps. "Thank you." Samuel said politely as he swept the money back. "We aren't mercenaries but we do need to eat." he continued.

"Excellent, just make ready as soon as you can, time is of the essence." Ferrum said with a hint of false desperation. "I understand, follow the signs to the armoury, you'll want to be well equipped for this." Samuel replied Jovially.

As he walked away a wicked grin more akin to a cyanide induced rictus contorted Ferrum's face.

"What do you mean you can't cure her?" Yorick bellowed at the top of his lungs. For a moment all of his frustration with the wasteland came out, the lack of technology, of culture, of medicine for a split second he was revolted by the sheer stupidity of his surroundings before a singular thought filled his mind. April, she was in the wasteland as well and right now she needed him.

"I…I'm sorry." he continued meekly, the rage gone from his voice. "Well you see April's legs are malformed and atrophied all the way through, we can't do anything to fix them and there's no way to replace them." Usinagi said dourly. April whimpered somewhat "I-Is th-the-there anything y-you can do to h-help?" He said with a distraught and ragged voice. "We can give you some medical braces and with physiotherapy she might improve but there's no way you'll regain full functionality." Usinagi said as she looked down with a hint of sorrow on her voice. "Y-Yorick?" April said with tears welling in her eyes. "It's okay, April, I…I'll, we can.." he mumbled incoherently before he felt a moment of perfect clarity. "We can do this, together." he said sombrely as he gently grasped her hand and beamed a tender smile she returned.

A half-minute passed before he heard Doctor Usinagi clear her throat to indicate that she was still in the room. "So when do we begin." we can start right n-" A guard ran into the room. "Doctor there's something you need to see." He said with a measured and deep voice though a mercenary only ran when money or blood was on the line, even one for the Followers. "Yes, Kendall." She said patiently. "We can see a group coming from the south west."


	8. Chapter 8: Night Of Discontent

Usinagi's mouth hung open for she set her jaw determinedly. "Yorick, April get out of here we can…" "There's no time doctor." Kendall said with an unshakeable calm, a common façade issued by mercenaries to help impress their customers. "Fine, Yorick stay here we'll hold them off, Kendall you and Barkley set up the defences, I'll radio for the Freeside branch to send in their guards and meet up with you afterwards.

"Yes Ma'am." he snapped off a quick salute before he disappeared into the lobby.

The lights above them flickered, most likely old wires being juddered by the gun fire and explosions.

"Y-Yorick, what's ha-happening?" April spluttered as he helped her to sit up. "We're under attack, April but don't worry I'm going to be right here." April nodded with a stray tear in her eye as she thought for a minute. "Do you still have that gun I gave you?" he said slowly and patiently as he heard the telltale clatter of riffle fire. "Ye-yes." she said cautiously as she took it out of a pocket in her old blazer. "All right, well if anyone who isn't one of our friends comes in here you use it, okay." He said calm and forcefully.

She nodded slowly and looked at the door, she had seen enough people stop that she really didn't want to see another, never mind cause another one. Life in the Legion was often brutal and taxing but she remembered the words of a captured NCR priest she had once been penned in with. "Kindness is not taken it is given up." She had told her as she passed around scraps of the clothes off her to patch old things and shared what little of her food she had smuggled in. In it's own way April liked to believe that was true if only to help believe she had defied them in some small way.

Kendall had finished setting up the defences, plasma mines long buried were remotely armed and a mounted Gatling gun on a tripod poked out of one of the windows.

Ferrum had an old an old and tattered bullet proof vest, though he knew better than to test those qualifications. He turned to Samuel Cooke garbed in similar apparel. "Your men were instructed I take it?" He shouted flatly to be heard over a half drunk war chorus and the clatter of marching soldiers to fortune. "Kill the mercs take the doctors, my men know what to do." he said with an air of pride and oddly militaristic bravado for a political 'prisoner.'

The main force was nestled in a ditch near the clinic as the first wave began, ten stout men in patchwork armour and scraggly clothes running straight at them weapons blazing. A young shaven headed man drew a stick of dynamite and lit it with an old Zippo lighter, illustrated with an old, bow tied bunny head of all things. Unfortunately Barkley was a crack shot and caught him in the shoulder mid-swing. His arm dropped limply and his eyes went wide.

He and the two men nearest to him disappeared in a cloud of red mist and a flash of smoke. The men nearest to them cast odd looks as they stumbled and staggered in the confusion before they too were cut down.

Kendall and Barkley were both NCR veterans, with all the experience that entailed and their marksman carbines were well maintained and equipped with the best night scopes available, though they both knew that the only time they had faced such long odds they had been better prepared and equipped.

"Fuck, did you see that?" Samuel shouted over the crack of weapons fire and shouting grunts. "There are losses in war, many more if we do not win." Ferrum replied attempting to keep the 'leader' under control he said as he straightened his tie.

"The main compound just radioed in, most of their guards are busy guarding a scientific outing and the Freesiders are rioting keeping the last guard busy." Usinagi said as she calmly folded her lab coat away and left it on her desk. "No one!" Barkley shouted in frustrated disbelief. "It will have to suffice." she replied firmly, he seemed to quieten afterwards.

She removed her shirt revealing a plain black tank top and placed an old combat armour breastplate on over it. Yorick cast an odd glance at the woman, a network of artistic pseudo tribal tattoos crisscrossed her arms half masking the few track marks on her well muscled left bicep. "The Boneyard was a little rough in my day." she said casually as she picked up the well worn caravan shotgun and noticed his gaze before she took up cover by the doorframe, clearly more prepared to defend her patients than most doctors.

Yorick drew his plasma defender, quite prepared to prove it's name though hoping he would have no need.

A few of the raiders were now getting quite dangerously close to the doors between reloads, they knew it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed. They also knew it was a matter of time until their reinforcements got here.

The powder gangers were firing blindly for the most part, only their explosions and flames lighting the way. Unfortunately luck was an odd thing and a stray bullet clipped Kendall in his lightly armoured stomach, punching straight through one side and out the other. "Kendall?" Barkley said as he continued firing. "Don't worry, Usinagi 'll have me patched up in a few minutes." he said with a wince, though he could feel the bloodless as it pooled around him. "But…" Barkley went to say. "Keep firing." Kendall replied bluntly, as he had done when they were still in the same unit.

He remembered the promise he made to Barkley's mother, said she'd bring him back safe and sound. Never did get round to coming back but he was safe and the few letters he could get out past the outpost were enough. Though it seemed quite apparent that they might not be going home in anything but an urn, if they were lucky.

Kendall drew his sawn off shotgun shifted himself so that he could rest up against the wall of the clinic and wait for the inevitable. "Doc, we've got wounded!" Barkley shouted over the ruckus. "Eyes on the battle Barkley, I don't wanna have to get up to beat that into you. Again" He said between shallow gasps for breath.

Yorick and Usinagi ran out to get Kendall, his face was pale and he seemed listless but he was still very much alive. "Come on." Yorick said as he dragged the younger man to his feet, he stood evenly, a good sign that the bullet had missed his spine.

April stood up a single hand against the bed to help her keep her balance whilst the other hand held the gun ready until she saw Yorick's face as he walked in with the guard. "Oh! Yorick." she said, pleasantly surprised to see him. Kendall clutched at his waist, blood seeping onto and past his fingers.

"Yorick help Barkley I have to look after Kendall." She said as she hefted him onto a gurney. He looked at April for a second who was busy trying to assist Doctor Usinagi. "Fine, but you have to promise me you'll look after her." he said with a sombre permanence. "I promise, Yorick." She said slowly and seriously. Yorick merely nodded and drew his pistol.

He walked up to the window Kendall had been firing from and was struck by the smell of old world cordite that curled around his nostrils and bought back uncomfortable memories of his first day in the wastes before he peered into the inky black of the night and fired at the small lights of lit fuses and flame thrower plumes.

His aim had never been particularly impressive though with such a large target he had managed to strike a lone figure, the glow of his weapon flashing against them and casting a long green shadow across their body before they tumbled into the hard dusty ground of Vegas.

At a rough count Barkley believed them to have felled fifteen of their men, though from the flickering glimpses he could catch he estimated that there was at least forty-five remaining, a grim prospect, they obviously lacked the numbers and the supplies to oppose such a large force.

Monroe was marching across the long path to New Vegas with his own companion in tow. "You honestly think Yorick's in danger?" she said as she kept stride with him, tweaking the pressure valves on her power fist, the device was ancient and required frequent maintenance but it had served her faithfully since she had first picked the weapon.

When an initiate first joins the ranks of the order they choose a single weapon to train in to the pinnacle of their abilities, the Knights would often choose something explosive, dangerous, oversized and compensatory whilst the Paladins would generally pick the highest tech they could find, something like a Gatling laser or a Laser rifle or anything else they loved to show off to the 'savages.' The Scribes meanwhile would generally choose something easy to use like an energy pistol or an RCW.

Veronica always prided herself on being a contrarian. The power fist had not been part of her anyone's first or last tech-haul and it had never belonged to anyone of importance. It was just the right weapon so far as she was concerned, practical, simple and quite lethal.

"Think about it, that guy tracked him across the wasteland without ever seein' him I'm pretty sure he can figure out were you're friend's headin' to."

A cold chill ran down Veronica's spine, her mentor wasn't as young as he… well actually he always seemed somewhat old to her unlike the much older Elijah, who despite his advanced years had always possessed a youthful energy and headstrong attitude Yorick had a much more reserved and purposeful manner about him, content to watch the world go by.

"He's a big boy he can look after himself." She replied with a grin as she recalled old memories, explaining some of the more mundane technologies that Elijah glossed over, teaching old-world history, that one Christmas the year before Helios where he made her a holo-map of the solar system. A kind gesture though it was quite clear that Yorick was never the parental type.

She was equally surprised when she saw him with a girlfriend,- no matter what he called her, she humorously remembered overhearing him attempting, and failing to ask out one of the Paladins the sight of him, red faced and stammering in front of the giant power armoured woman was one of her fonder memories of The Brotherhood.

Though she had also remembered the moments when he had been forced into less kind actions. Yorick had led a troupe of Initiates, herself included it was to be a routine exercise, they had found an old Vault deserted and preliminary reports indicated that it was all safe. Quite inaccurate, the great door closed and a small army of robo-brains… the original inhabitants came pouring out of hidden panels. Scribes Damon, Carter and Bexley were lost before they could set up a safe zone in the old cafeteria. The Brotherhood feared the worst and sent in a group to return their tags to the order. Never got past the cog-door, all the scribes and the initiates were already making their way back home, a haul of medical technologies on their backs.

"Veronica, I've seen psychopaths like Ferrum all my life, an' I can tell you one thing." he paused for a moment to give weight to his hoarse words. "You can never quite plan for 'em." he continued his voice heavy and dark.

"Well then we'd best…" Veronica's sharp eyes caught flashes coming from the direction of New Vegas, the tell tale rapid illumination of gunfire and explosives. From the night there seemed to come green flashes reminiscent of a certain plasma defender. "Monroe, do you see that?" she said as she started jogging towards it, building up speed before accelerating into a dead run. "Sonofa…" he said as he caught the flashes and realised what she had meant. He caught pace with her and unsung his riffle, there was no way he could expect to hit something on the run but he remembered all the overlooks in the area after wandering this same area for centuries and there was one that would make the entire battlefield one massive kill zone.

The Powder Gangers were advancing and paying for every inch, a man would step forward and catch a mine, often leaving nothing but glowing goop splattered onto their comrades. "My men are dying, Horatio!" Samuel shouted over the last detonation, the flash of green cast over his angered face. Ferrum took a moment to register his alias. "Sacrifice was inevitable, if we can get him back to our base you will have an organisation of likeminded men to work with, instead of these criminals." he replied reassuringly, though frankly the second he thought he could Samuel was likely to be rewarded with nothing more than a bullet in the brain for his troubles. Although those seemed to be proving less effective in recent times, perhaps a few at point blank for good measure. And relaxation.

The last set of mines consumed a quartet of powder gangers and blew the doors to charred and flaming splinters, indeed between the explosive ordinance and repeated fire they had been whittled down to a mere ten men and their leaders, though probably quite sufficient to overwhelm the three combatants nestled inside, the Gatling gun had ran dry, as had Berkley's carbine.

He sprayed his submachine gun at the crowd, one man went down from a headshot another fell to a deep wound that had seemed to strike his lung.

Four men walked through the front door weapons drawn.

Yorick felled one, blasting a sizzling hole in his chest. He gasped and looked down just before he fell to the floor dead. Barkley popped up to fire and dropped two men before the remaining man levelled his shotgun.

Barkley's eyes went wide before a single blast shattered his skull and plastered it's contents over the floor and wall behind him.

Yorick popped up and shot him in the arm. He dropped the weapon, though not by choice as the hand went with it. He fell over screeching and writhing in pain as he clutched the remaining limb that ended in blackened tatters at his elbow. He fired another shot that scorched his chest and burnt his heart to a crisp. He made a shallow gasp and lurched forward before he died, his eyes, somehow duller stared at oblivion.

The remaining seven men stepped in, their flamers drawn and ready to spray. A shame really so close to victory and yet so far, still at least he could say he went with a bang.

He had never feared death, no Brother of the Steel did, when the time came it came, no technology and no struggle could halt it. However he had feared the process of dying, as he was sure for the longest time that his death would be slow protracted and meaningless. To know that in his last moments he had faced an army to save the woman he loved, he was sure this was a good death.

He had drawn the fragmentation-grenade from his pocket and held it high. Samuel and his men gasped, though Ferrum was quite prepared, he leapt with impressive speed and grace and knocked the ancient tool of destruction from his hand. He went to raise the plasma defender only for that to be knocked from his hands as well.

Ferrum grasped him and lifted him from his feet with one arm and stood his hirelings down with another, still in shocked silence.

"We have what we want let's get out of here." he said calmly without turning and instead had his gun fixed on the corridor behind Yorick. "Primitive." Yorick spat both figuratively and literally.

Ferrum threw him to the ground to leave him spluttering and coughing on the hard ground, the wind knocked out of him. The Powder Gangers laughed raucously. He tried to inch his way forward before being lifted up again and marched out by Ferrum, his vice like grip on his shoulder to dissuade any attempt at escape.

April could hear the whole thing and began sobbing profusely. Usinagi, who had finished stitching up Kendall and left him under sedation to cope with the pain moved to silence her.

"April, I'm sorry but he's just not coming back." She said sadly. "B-But…But I loved him."


	9. Chapter 9: A Rose By Another Name

As Yorick was marched out he thought sadly, he recognised the face of his captor, Ferrum and if he was here there was a very good chance that Veronica and everyone else from the 188 was dead in some irradiated ditch.

He thought of all the blood at his feet, the people who had fought to defend him, Veronica, Kendall and Berkley all of them either wounded or dead because of him, because he didn't face his enemy like any true Brother of the Steel would. Like Garibaldi would have.

He caught a glint coming from a rocky cliff above him and a devilish smile crossed his face, similar to the one his father would make as the chess pieces fell into line. The guard to right took notice. "What the fuck're you smiling at?" he asked aggressively as he went to raise his weapon. A supersonic bolt from the blue penetrated his cranium and left his mind to wonder as his brain wandered around the immediate area. Four more men dropped to the floor, Monroe's sniper rifle performing exactly to specification.

Monroe thought back to the last time he was in a situation like this over two hundred years ago, the Dallas First-National incident. He neutralised most of the criminals but not before one of them shot down a hostage, the boy fell to floor almost devoid of a torso. It was a media circus his name was mud and the police chief was feeling the squeeze, in the end he was shipped across the states to the Mojave Department to rebuild, Hailey gave him hell for that, the kids had to leave all their friends and move to a different school. He could probably just forget about it, the world had forgotten worse things but there was always one more injustice on the horizon, one more cannibal, one more raider. One more chance to set the world just that little bit straighter. "Protect and Serve Motherfucker." he muttered to himself as he emptied the clip.

From the clinic April sobbed as she heard the shots ring out, quite certain each one of them was meant for Yorick. "It's okay, the Followers can look after you, I promise." Usinagi said in a cooing, almost motherly tone though the wobble of concern detracted from the effect. "Bu-but Yo-Yorick… he's." she took a deep quivering breath as she tried to splutter out the word. "Dead." she whispered.

"Watch him!" Ferrum shouted to the nearly quivering Samuel as he thrust the prisoner into his hands.

Ferrum dropped his pistol and slid the assault carbine from his back. Based on ballistic trajectory formulas Ferrum had memorised he calculated the relative position of the shooter. The large flat rock overlooking the entire area. Some would call that a waist of brain power.

He fired into the distance only stopping to change out the clip. Monroe was forced to duck as a hail of bullets forced him to slip behind the cover of the rock, though not before a lucky shot clipped his arm. He grunted in pain as he felt the wound cut a shallow path across his necrotised arm. "Monroe?" Veronica whispered in concern. "Fucker got me in the arm," he took a deep and shaking breath. "can't shoot straight." another breath. "Jus' need you to bandage the wound." he said as he reached into one of the pockets of his tactical vest and pulled out a pressure bandage. "What about Yorick?" she asked with concern. "I'm afraid he's on his own." Monroe replied in a breathless whisper.

Back on the ground Yorick took his chances, Cooke hadn't had the time to draw his weapon when he was forced into the role of hostage taker. Yorick began the task of gently sliding the knife from it's unnoticed perch in his boot. He took the weapon and grasped it preparing for the last dire move.

"What are you-" Samuel's question was cut short as Yorick forced the knife into his throat and severed the spinal cord in one lucky strike. He gurgled and went slack before he tumbled over backwards, blood mixing into his grubby beard and trickling down his front.

He laid there flat on his back, his eyes closed and with an oddly rested look on his now still face. The journey was over and he could finally rest content that he would no longer have to live with the NCR.

Yorick quickly pulled the machine pistol from his dead captors belt.

Ferrum turned just in time to feel the sting of ten millimetre bullets at close range.

He charged, blood dripping from the large holes down his front, he could feel the blood sloshing within him, the ever growing invisible weight on his chest and the slackening in his arms and legs as he ran. It was clear to him that these were his last moments and he didn't much care, he would strangle the life from his victor as his own fires flickered for daring to take away his chance at glory.

Yorick fired again tearing great swathes of Ferrum's abdomen from him as he ran. He lurched and leapt onto Yorick and they tumbled to the ground.

Yorick felt Ferrum's grip on his throat and immediately reached for the knife that lay just within reach. He stabbed again and again at the man's python-like arms and still he did not relent, merely causing his grip to falter for a second or so.

He drove the knife into the back of Ferrum's neck, unfortunately his wavering grip meant that it was deflected by one of his vertebrae and did not sever his spine. However it did strike his pain suppression implant and stuck into the artery it was connected to.

It faltered and failed leaving him to face his wounds without chemical assistance. Now the agent's grip faltered. Using the moment to kick Ferrum loose of him and scrabble backwards.

Ferrum felt the shock of his wounds and howled on the floor writhing in agony before he went slack the shock setting in and leaving him stuck on the floor. He made one last crawl for Yorick gripping him by the leg and dragging him towards him. Yorick kicked wildly with his free leg, breaking his nose and knocking a few teeth from their loose perches before he let go and groaned in pain.

Yorick clambered to his feet and loomed over the man. "Finish it…sir." He said with metaphoric bile and literal blood in his ruined mouth as he was forced by old traditions to honour his victor.

"No." Yorick simply replied as he walked away to the clinic. "Why do people keep calling me sir, I'm not that old." he muttered under his breath to no one and nothing in particular. "Finish it!" Ferrum half screeched and half gurgled still clawing at the air.

He walked into the splinted archway of the clinic careful to ignore the gore that used to be Barkley as he fetched his weapon, the refurbished titanium casing had proved quite resilient and seemed undamaged as he checked the components for any wear and found none. He slipped the weapon into his pocket and continued on.

He knocked on the door and waited, lest he find out what buckshot felt like. "Who is it?" Usinagi shouted from beyond the door. "Yorick, who else." He replied with mock bravado whilst he felt his stomach twist from the stress.

The door unlocked with a heavy clank and he was met by April beaming a wide smile. "Yorick!" she nearly screeched in surprise as she barrelled forwards, nearly stumbling as she met his grubby dust strewn form.

She wrapped her arms around him and he weakly raised his, trembling from exhaustion and the shock. She gently kissed him on the lips, eliciting a look of shock that quickly faded to pleased acceptance as he pulled her closer.

They stood there for a time, enjoying the strange embrace before they heard the clatter of footsteps through the front door.

He instinctually raised his weapon before he nearly dropped it in shock. There she was, again Veronica was stood there arms crossed whilst a ghoul in old-world armour.

"Why Yorick, I never saw this coming." Veronica remarked sarcastically. "Jealous?" he teased back at her.

April gently released him and turned to face them, still resting against Yorick. "My saviour I assume." he said as he noticed the large and impressive riffle slung over Monroe's shoulders. "Jus' doin' ma job." he said with a modest tone in his voice as he let a contented smile cross his cracked half-gone lips.

"Well regardless, thank you." he said as he extended a hand. Monroe took it and shook it vigorously before unhanding him. "Veronica's told me a lot about you." he said with his casual smile.

"I suppose she has…" he said as he cast a wary glance to her. "Come on, a friend of mine lent me his access card." She replied. Usinagi walked out pushing Kendall on a gurney. "Don't mind if we come along?" She asked as she came into view. "Sure." Monroe replied as he eyed her appreciatively.

They set off first into Freeside. April sat at the foot of the gurney Kendall was being carried on, lit by the power of Helios, if Yorick had guessed correctly from Radio New Vegas' reports. He was happy to see that dammed thing had at least helped someone, though the Brotherhood would most likely be quite displeased, not that it mattered there was little they could do about it.

There were a few thugs out on the streets that watched them with the keen eyes of a predator before they declined to act, taking note of the numerous armed people surrounding their wounded allies.

"Stick around a few days, we'll be ready to help April then." Usinagi said. "Don't suppose ya'll need a new guard." Monroe said as he Usinagi and Kendall disappeared behind the old wooden doors of the Mormon Fort.

"So who was that guy?" Yorick asked once he was relatively sure he was out of earshot at the gates just outside the Strip. "An old policeman, I think." Veronica replied quietly. "There hasn't been a policeman for over two hundred years." he replied with serious doubt on his face. "Doesn't look a day over one-eighty, does he?" she replied sarcastically.

"Yorick, April ever seen The Tops?" Veronica asked with an impish smile. "You mean the highly exclusive casino far beyond home filled with armed robots and NCR soldiers." "Yes that one." "What do you think?" he replied in deadpan.

"Well, here." she said as she tossed him a pouch of caps. "Take it, I've got to sort some things out with a friend at the Lucky 38. She replied as she walked on ahead

"Y-Yorick c-can we?" She asked as she tugged him forwards a tad. He mulled it over, the bright lights, the prostitutes, the sex, drugs and gambling…he hated them all, that being said April's eager eyes betrayed her curiosity to see the strange place and it's strange people. "Sure." he replied trying to sound eager, though he seemed to walk a little bit more sluggishly from then on.

They walked the main road of the Strip, in the middle a podium, draped in the symbol of the bear stood there waiting for someone to speak from it, most likely the war had been won decisively this time. He didn't care for the NCR but he was quite prepared to conceded that other than trying to kill the Brotherhood he had never really seen them perform anything objectionable and they were certainly better than the Legion.

Yorick marvelled at The Tops, a beautiful beacon of the old-world, it's curved lines and elegant marble a symbol of the past's passions and their decadence even as the world burned around them. April on the other hand was distracted by the lights that ran along a curved neon canopy that pulsed above them.

"Hey pops, welcome to the tops." A boisterous man behind the check-in desk in the trademark white suit said with a cocky smile. "And you too doll." he said as he stared April in the chest. "How much is a room." Yorick replied tersely. "Whoa, Whoa pops this is more than a hotel, dig we got craps, black jack poker, you name it." "What but no rooms?" Yorick replied sardonically.

The young man's face dropped as he spoke. "Two hundred caps." he replied bluntly. Yorick placed the caps down on the table and waited for the room key. "We'll need you to check your weapons." he replied blandly as he directed them to a muscular and redheaded man.

They handed him their respective weapons though Yorick made a mental note to keep his knife on him if only because he didn't really want to explain how it ended up having two men's blood on it.

The man patted Yorick down to check for anything hidden and found nothing, thankfully. The guard seemed to linger slightly at April's turn though he seemed to stop when he looked up to share a lecherous grin only to be met with Yorick's withering gaze, it had been used to silence many initiates in his time and such a low ranking Chairman was functionally the same, young, energetic and easily impressed apparently it was a bit like owning a dog.

"If you'll just give me a name for your weapons that'll be all." he said after he turned to clear his throat, noticeably never making eye contact with his clientele. "Velasco." Yorick stated tersely.

They made their way to the elevator casting strange looks from the well-to-do customers perusing the gambling floor. In all his time in the wasteland he had never felt more out of place as those eyes looked them over from head to toe and silently judged them unaware, or perhaps uninterested in their adventure.

Yorick summoned the elevator and waited patiently before the heavy metal doors retracted to reveal the interior of the cart.

"Y-Yorick what is this?" April asked as she followed him in. "Well…." he said as he thought of a way of wording it in a way that would prevent her from thinking she was in a transporter. "It's like a room that moves to other rooms and carries you with it." He replied to her as they felt the sudden jerk of the small pod ascending.

April's vice like grips on the support bars and Yorick's hand waned when she felt the craft stop and the doors opened to their suite.

It was a small room that smelt of age despite the impressive effort the Chairmen's servants had put into maintaining it.

He hooked his bandolier on the hat rack, bolted to the floor to prevent it tipping over from the weight of body armour.

He yanked off his boots and socks to wriggle his toes and placed them at the foot of the bed with his jumpsuit serving as a makeshift pillow and prepared to drift off to sleep on the hard ground as he had done before.

Yorick turned to a similarly disrobed April. "Good night." he said as he prepared to rest. "Come here." April said in a confident whisper as she staggered to the bed and swung herself onto it. A small, alluring smile was on her lips. Picking up on the obvious intention Yorick's stunned expression turned into a kindred smile as he joined her.

He sat on the bed and nervously turned to hold her before she pounced on him. Her gentle fingers intertwined his own clumsy digits as she positioned herself on top of him. A gentle touch of a single lithe finger ran down his bare chest as she caressed him as he admired her equally naked torso. She met her soft plump lips to his dry cracked mouth as she embraced him.

He pulled her in as he gave way to his desires, so lost in the euphoria as their forms intertwined so that for a few wondrous seconds they could become a glorious whole united by a common and overwhelming need.

As the rush of adrenaline passed they cradled each other in their arms as they closed their eyes and fell into a calm pleasant slumber some how much more at ease with the world than they had been before.


	10. Chapter 10: The Life They Live

They awoke to the sound of revelry, causing Yorick to smile with a soft chuckle at the oddly appropriate occurrence.

"Yorick Wh-what is that?" April said as she stretched and passed a gentle yawn. "Just some parade, I suppose the NCR feels like celebrating." He replied casually as she stood next to him, her hand resting on his bare back whilst he wrapped an arm around her shapely waist.

They heard a knocking on the door that caused him to instinctively reach for his pistol only to remember that he was disarmed, and disrobed.

"Just a second!" he shouted at the door. Gathering up their scattered clothes and sorted them into his own pile and one for April. "Quickly now, don't bother with shoes, I'll go talk wit them." Yorick said to April as he helped her to sit on the bed and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

A second knocking came as Yorick quickly pulled his jumpsuit on around him and zipped it up. "I'll be ready in a minute!" he yelled at the door, somewhat annoyed at them ruining the occasion. "April are you…covered." he replied as he looked over his shoulder. She merely nodded.

He unlocked the door only to be met with a very peculiar sight. He jumped back aghast at what he believed to be a man in Enclave power armour. "Gone native Yorick." A familiar voice said from behind a respirator mask. Yorick's nervous expression dropped when he noticed the Brotherhood Crest delicately embellished on the 'parade armour' and the red half-cape.

The helmet was removed with a hiss as the hermetic seal was broken revealing the face of Elder Mc Nammara. "Why ever are you here." Yorick replied as he stepped back to allow his old subordinate, turned superior in.

Two men in suits, one he recognised as President Kimball the other seemed to have been from a vault based on the pip-boy, both of whom were flanked by a pair of NCR veteran rangers.

"We have a proposal to make, Mister…" The president said as he stuck out an arm. "Head Scribe Yorick Velasco." he replied as he grasped Kimball's hand and shook it.

"Y-Yorick wh-who are these people." April said as she hobbled to his side. "Just some very powerful men who know who I am, nothing to worry about." He replied with an almost nervous quiver in his voice.

"Nothing to worry about ma'am you're quite safe with us." The president stated as he straightened his tie.

"Please Head Scribe Velasco, we have a proposition for you." the vaulter said. As he gestured to the sitting area of their room.

At the exact moment Yorick and April had sat down Elder Mc Nammara began speaking. "We've an alliance truce with the NCR, the lockdown has been lifted." "Well I can't imagine you'd want me to return, we both know the Brotherhood's attitude to outsiders." He said as he pulled April in closer.

"Actually Veronica told us you'd say as much." the Elder replied. "I bet you're glad, without Elijah I become Elder." Yorick replied as he stared at him intensely. "I'm afraid not Yorick, the Council decided that since you've been gone so long I'm a fully fledged Elder now." Nolan replied with pride. "However a stipulation of the Alliance is that the Brotherhood get's a representative in the Republic Senate and an Envoy in any Republic area their operating. "One of the younger Maxsons took the senate position, I nominated you as the local Envoy."

"You'll be working with me to present and co-ordinate Brotherhood interests in the Mojave area." The vaulter spoke up as he pushed his glasses further up his narrow nose. "Sorry, who exactly are you?" Yorick replied as he turned to the much younger man. "As of today Governor Harrow Zephyr Ph.D." he replied with a smile. "Veronica told me about you, how does a courier end up with a philosophy degree?" Yorick asked with a note of scepticism. "It didn't pay that well." he replied casually.

"You can expect a thousand caps a week, free living quarters and a retirement fund." The President said. "And a nice coat." Harrow added.

"Well, If I get a coat…" Yorick replied with false calm as he leaned back into the chair. "Excellent, we've already moved you're things to the Ultra-Luxe's suites, you might want to get changed though, the ambassadors do get a tad uppity about décor." Harrow stated. As Elder Mc Nammara passed him the uniform.

"Sorry, the Ultra-Luxe?" Yorick asked as he sat forward. "After that little…cannibalism incident we've decided to shut them down and convert the place into the new Mojave Embassy." "So we won't have to live with those masked men?" The President shook his head. "Sign here and you have your first meeting in five hours." the president said as he presented him with a clipboard and pen.

Yorick quickly scribbled down his signature. "Would you mind leaving I want to talk with the Elder in private, Brotherhood matters." The President and his entourage left promptly after the Elder cast them a dismissive look.

"Here." Yorick said as he handed him an old holo-tag. The Elder squinted as he read the inscription on them. "I think it's about time Garibaldi went home." He replied sombrely. "You're mother was pleased to hear you survived." Nolan said as he stood with the hiss of hydraulics and prepared to leave. "Don't know how she'd feel about you're lifestyle though." he said as he left after depositing a stack of papers on the coffee table, labelled 'NCR Ambassadorial Conduct Charter' along with the Brotherhood agenda and his rights concerning them.

Yorick stepped out of the bathroom a half hour later, his scraggly hair sonically cleaned and combed to perfection and his beard groomed to a similar standard. He adjusted the collar of the outfit which was similar to Elijah's though lighter without the under robe. There was a wide smile as he looked down at himself, and felt like a true Brother of the Steel once again, for whatever that might mean.

"Yorick." April said with a flash of pride in her voice as she caught sight of him, stood there as proud and commanding as he could manage. She pulled him in for a gentle kiss, an act she grew fonder of with every repetition.

They we're interrupted by another knocking on the door. He slowly pulled away with a wry smile as he once again opened the door. "Mc Nammara just told me about the promotion, someone had to take it I suppose…glad it was you." Veronica stated as she walked in brazenly.

"Doctor Usinagi was busy tending to Kendall and Monroe, but she asked me to give you these." she said before handing a pair of leg braces and a pre war summer dress. "The dress was my idea, I know how much I liked it."

Yorick strapped them onto her as the printed on instructions dictated.

She stood and walked to him, awkwardly and slightly slower than the average person but she did so unassisted. "Y-Yorick." she muttered with a tear in her eye. "Anyway doctor Usinagi says that she'll be making house calls every month or so for a physio therapy session. " Tell her I-I said Th-thank you." April said as she walked around investigating the portraits for the first time, no longer simply being carried by others she was free to wander at her own whims, freedom in it's truest sense.

Yorick admired the scene for a moment quite sure he was going to work himself into an early grave paying for the rent of a slum somewhere a scant half hour ago and yet here he was, a loving relationship, a great job and his family at his back. Success, it would seem was rather a well timed entity.

Ten months later:

As the representative of the NCR's most important allies Yorick was bequeathed the Ultra Luxe's penthouse a sign of their esteemed standing. Yorick was sat in his office, as he often was, typing up a proposal to extend the area of direct Brotherhood control to include Sloan and the NCR correctional facility, the revenue of which would be a great boon to their rebuilding efforts.

Time unfortunately was against him, he had a rather pressing engagement waiting for him in the bowels of Vault 21. The very notion of it sent knots through his stomach but it was his own fault he got himself into it and he had seen it coming for a while. It was time to face the music.

He checked the clock component of his field equipment gauntlet, now worn proudly on his glove which confirmed that it was time to finish up. A shame really he had hoped to get this done before he was out of commission for the month.

Nonetheless time waited for no man, though it did seem to give ghouls a bit of leeway. He stood up and straightened his uniform and set off for the Vault.

He nervously ran a shaking hand through his greying hair. As he waited for the elevator to reach the bottom floor. He stepped out onto the floor of the casino, now repurposed into the main foyer. The many visiting dignitary's from every faction encountered by the NCR were coming and going as he made his way through the throng of passers by.

He stepped out into the sun of New Vegas and took in the surroundings one more time as he crossed the road and passed the check-gates to the rear section.

Monroe was just outside the small entry hut dressed as dapperly as a Follower Guardsman's salary would allow and waiting with a crude semblance of a smile. "Time's time." he said as he caught sight of the robed figure. "Quite, is April inside?" Yorick asked nervously as they walked inside. "Morning Yorick, bet you can't wait to get it over with eh?" Sarah said cheerily as she leaned against the counter,. "I have to say it has been a worrisome few weeks but I'm gland to be doing this." He replied with a slight smile.

They descended into the vault's main level and came into the Atrium, lit by synthetic daylight and draped with the finest desert flowers available in the post-war world. A group of his closest friends were gathered, Linda Schuler sat stiff and stern with an air of authority, Ibsen his mind wandering as he admired the advanced technologies around him, Nolan was sat at the front a dour look on his face most likely annoyed at being dragged from his command and leaving Hardin in charge. Kendall and Usinagi we're also present the latter shooting bedroom eyes at his ghoul companion. Governor Zephyr was in attendance whilst Bert Gunnarsson stood in the middle of the crowd of people made of their ambassadorial neighbours and barring Head paladin Hardin the senior leadership of the Mojave Brotherhood.

He took his place on the step below Gunnarsson with Monroe stood formally at his side. For a few minutes he waited with his hands sweaty in their gloves and his heart nearly beating from his chest.

And then he saw her. Beaming a wide smile Veronica, finally clad in a dress was escorting the equally ecstatic April, much in the way Yorick had all those months ago,. He watched with pride as she took her awkward steps to the altar, obviously under her own power.

He admired her form for a moment, the finest tailor in the west had formed a simple (or rather overpriced) white dress that covered her leg braces whilst maintaining an alluring silhouette. In place of heels that would throw her off her already dubious balance she had chosen a pair of knee high boots that most would say clashed with the outfit yet it made perfect sense to Yorick. Her long brown hair was pulled up into an elegant bun that showed off her long and elegant neck, now devoid of the collar's tan line.

Veronica released her and took up position on the step above her watching with a tender smile.

"Dearly beloved." Bert began in his deep guttural voice hushing the crowd. "We are gathered here today to honour and officiate the love felt between Yorick Velasco and April. The couple have written their own vows for the occasion"

Yorick spoke now doing his best to keep his voice from wobbling. "In my time I studied the length and breadth of the old-world and never had I been as fascinated as when I saw you for the first time. It has been my greatest pleasure to have known you, never before nor since have I encountered such a genuinely kind person as you."

He gently clasped her smile and looked up into her shimmering brown eyes.

"Equally I have never known such a beauty as yours, nor shall I seek to find one. Before I found you I felt as though I were a stranger in a strange land, merely a visitor waiting for his home. Then I found you, and found home. At your side. Always."

He said as he allowed a wide close-lipped smile to cross his face and sighed contentedly at his fiancé, bathed in the glow of a false sun and surrounded by all of his truest and most loyal friends.

She took her turn to speak now. "I love you Yorick, a-and I always will." she replied warmly. She was never much of a public, or for that matter private speaker but what little she had said was the laconic truth simple and pleasant, all Yorick needed to hear.

"If anyone may think of a reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold their breath…" Bert paused and as expected no one spoke.

"Yorick Velasco do you pledge to honour and to love this woman, and only this woman so long as you both may live.?"

"I do." he replied as he placed a ring on her long and dainty finger.

"April do you pledge to honour and to love this man, and only this man so long as you both may live?"

"I do." She replied as they pulled each other closer in anticipation, hands on each other's hips and she nimbly slipped a ring onto Yorick's finger.

"Then I declare you to be husband wife, you may kiss the bride."

They clutched each other and kissed amorously as the roomed was filled with the reverberating chorus of applause.

They had struggled and lived in despair, they had lived beyond the dreams of avarice. More than that they had struggled together and for each other. They had survived together. And now they would live together, safe in the knowledge of each other's company.

The End. More or less.


	11. Chapter 11:Epilogue

_Yorick and April lived a long and charmed life together happily married though never having children, Yorick wasn't the type and April could never get over the loss of her previous ones. _

_Yorick diligently advanced the Brotherhood's aims through diplomacy before retiring at age eighty-nine and died a decade later, pleased that someone had loved him truly before he passed. His last words we're "Love you." directed to his wife. Upon his tombstone it simply read; "Envoy Yorick Velasco: We knew him well." _

_April died four years later in the comfort of a considerable retirement, the rest of which she passed on to Monroe and the Followers of the Apocalypse. She had loved and been loved a dream far beyond the little girl with the broken legs she had once been. _

_Veronica served the Velasos with integrity for many years before settling down with a nice young ranger woman and adopting a family of her own, she named the eldest boy Yorick after her trusty mentor. She lived to a ripe old age and passed with a smile on her face and a song in her heart. _

_Elder Mc Nammara and Envoy Velasco eventually came to a grudging respect that grew into a friendly rivalry and finally a true understanding of each other, finally able to work for the betterment of all Brothers and Sisters of the Steel _

_Bert Gunnarsson opened up a small church just outside New Vegas, offering succour and absolution to any who would seek it regardless of religion or genetics. _

_Monroe had already outlived a family, a country and now his first real friends along in this brave new world though he was pleased to remember his time with them. He would guard the Followers of the Apocalypse well into the future as humanity rebuilt around him, always stopping to tell passers by the ancient story of a pair of strange lovers and the world they had lived in, an immortal reminder to their enduring love that warmed the hearts of many people over the centuries becoming a beloved classic to many lonely hearts throughout America. _

_Ferrum's corpse was never found though he was never seen or heard from again. Not that he would. _


End file.
